Full text of "Get that picture! The story of the news cameraman"

See other formats

GET THAT PICTURE! — THE

STORY OF THE NEWS

CAMERAMAN

By A. J. EZICKSON

In this vivid portrayal of the
newspaper photographer and
hi? profession, Mr. Ezickson has
toid a complete story of a branch
of modern journalism which has
grown firmly and steadily within
the past decade. The photogra-
pher is the central character, his
background is the teeming news-
paper office, his field of action
the world in which he cease-
lessly works his camera to cap-
ture the news.

Sixteen years of daily contact
with the news cameraman has
given the author an intimate and
thorough knowledge of the en-
tire field of news photography.
He has been "on top" of some of
the biggest news stories that
ever broke and has personally
assigned many of the photog-
raphers whose results have
made picture history. Ever since
his graduation from the Colum-
bia University School of Journal-
ism in 1922, Mr. Ezickson has
been connected with nearly

(Continued on Back Flap)

From the collection of the

7 n

P T m
rrejinger

v JJibrary

San Francisco, California
2006

M^c^ a.

Sweeping low out of a thick mist and rain, Mack Baron, International News
photographer, made this first picture to be taken of the burning steamship
Morro Castle off Asbury Park, N. J., in 1935, in which 134 passengers and
members ot the crew perished. Note lifeboat with survivors in foreground
waiting to be picked up by rescue vessel. Later other photographers ap-
peared over the scene, but Baron and Pilot Bill Gulick had already landed
at North Beach, Long Island, with the negatives which -were rushed by
motorcycle to the New York office foi an outstanding picture beat.

Get That Picture !

The Story of the News Cameraman

A. J. EZICKSON

of Wide World Photos

NATIONAL LIBRARY PRESS

110 West 42nd Street New York, N. Y.

PRINTED BY THEODOEE GAUS* SONS, INC., NEW YORK CITY

CONTENTS

Page

CHAPTER I
WHEN A BIG STORY BREAKS 9

CHAPTER II

THE CAMERA Is BORN AND BECOMES A GIANT 18

CHAPTER III

THE TRAIN, PLANE, PIGEON, WIRE AND RADIO

CARRY THE PICTURE 33

CHAPTER IV
THE EDITOR SCANS THE PICTURE 49

CHAPTER V
THE ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS CAMERAMAN .... 67

CHAPTER VI
FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS CAMERAMAN. . 83

CHAPTER VII
THE CAMERAMAN ON THE JOB 104

CHAPTER VIII
THE CAMERAMAN COVERS THE DAILY EVENT . 121

CONTENTS— (continued)

Page

CHAPTER IX
THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHER 138

CHAPTER X
THE WOMAN NEWS PHOTOGRAPHER 151

CHAPTER XI
THE AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHER GETS THE PICTURE. ... 168

CHAPTER XII
THE PUBLICITY MAN GETS THE PICTURE 174

CHAPTER XIII
THE MINIATURE CAMERA ON THE NEWS JOB 182

CHAPTER XIV
THE GREATEST PICTURE STORY OF ALL TIMES .... 193

and 45 Illustrations

GET THAT PICTURE!

To
FLO,

My Wife

Patrolman C V. Satt (right), bloody and dust covered after being- showered
with rocks and bottles in Denver, Colo., strike riot in 1935, is shown being
defended by a comrade who rushed ahead of the line of fire to aid him.

•

MONEY-KING STRICKEN

An alert cameraman snapped J. P. Morgan, the international financier, as he

was removed from a train at Mill Neck, Long- Island, after suffering an

attack of neuritis in July, 1936. Train employes and friends are seeking to

make him quite comfortable on the stretcher.

Chapter I.
WHEN A BIG STORY BREAKS

The picture editor was typing his nightly memorandum
for the day editor — a summary of stories which broke dur-
ing his shift (watch for the return of the dirigible Akron to
its hangar at Lakehurst, he specifically underlined), and
others of lesser importance which needed watching for pic-
ture possibilities.

The caption writer had cleaned his desk top and was
carefully filing the night's clippings.

"What a night," he muttered, as he glanced toward the
side windows as a heavy rain beat against the panes, and
wondering how he was to reach home without rubbers and
umbrella.

He glanced at the clock. It was 1.45 a.m.

The mail clerk had finished wrapping the batch of enve-
lopes stuffed with photographs while the motorcyclist who
was to take them to the train mail slot and then deliver his
customary evening papers (this time, by subway as he had
left his motorcycle at a garage), lolled at a nearby table
waiting impatiently for the last trip of the night.

The darkroom printer stood in the doorway of the dark-
room exchanging light banter with one of the "squeegee"
boys placing a few odd prints on the ferrotype machine to be
dried and glossed.

From the other end of the long room came the steady
click of the teletype machines — the endless stream of stories
coming in and going out to the world's four corners.

A few more minutes, and there would be an exodus of
the night staff to the elevators, followed by a dash through
the rain to the subways for the homeward rides.

10 GET THAT PICTURE

A sudden shout from the city editor seated at the desk
at the farther end of the room.

"The Akron's crashed!"

Everyone converged toward his desk.

The night editor turned toward the few remaining oper-
ators.

"Hold it," he shouted. "We're sending an EOS flash !"

That flash, with the steady ringing of the bell at the
receiving ends, was to announce to excited editors from
coast to coast that a tragedy had befallen America's pride
of the air.

Everyone stretched neck to catch the words the city
editor was scribbling on a pad. It was the message picked
up at sea from the German tanker Phoebus and being
phoned in by the Radiomarine Corporation of America.

"Airship Akron with 77 men afloat off Barnegat Light-
ship. Picked up some. Chief officer and three men. Can-
not save all. 45 miles south of entrance to New York
Harbor. Ten to 15 miles offshore."

The flash was already spinning over the wires to all
parts of the world.

Every department was galvanized into action.

The picture editor rushed to the phone. Calls were
placed for correspondents at Asbury Park, Long Branch,
Lakewood and Atlantic City. Then another for a pilot
who had flown often for the syndicate on big stories. Still
another for Holmes Airport. A plane must be chartered
at once.

While these were being plugged in, the general manager,
the day editor, mat editor and three photographers were be-
ing roused from their sleep by the ringing of the phones.
All must be notified at once; not a second's time is to be
lost.

Then back to the files. The folder with a miscellany
of Akron photographs. A fine shot of the giant dirigible

GET THAT PICTURE II

in the air, another in its hangar at Lakehurst, some interior
views showing the control cabin, sleeping quarters, a scene
along the catwalk, and others. In an instant the printer is
making copies. The negative file is sought. Of the best
ones a full service is ordered.

The portraits of the two known commanding officers,
Admiral William A. Moffett and Lieutenant Commander
Herbert Wiley, are taken from the files and copied.

Then back to the typewriter. Rush messages are sent
to the managers of the various bureaus at Chicago, Cleve-
land, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Atlanta.

The message reads : "Service your lists best shots Akron
and commanding officers Admiral Moffett and Commander
Wiley. Keep close watch on casualty list and keep after
shots officers and men from respective home towns in your
vicinity."

Every five or ten minutes a dash to the general desk.
About 2 130 another message is received from the Phoebus
identifying the rescued officer as Commander Wiley. Names
of the three enlisted men are also given.

A wireless is sent to the captain of the Phoebus request-
ing pictures if any were taken of the rescue of the four sur-
vivors and that such pictures will be picked up as soon as
the ship docks.

A phone call is placed for the bureau manager at Wash-
ington. He is told to try to get all pictures available of the
Akron's officers and men from the Navy Department files
as soon as the offices there are opened in the morning.

Over the wires flash a long list of the names and ad-
dresses of the Akron's personnel. Messages are wired to
the correspondents of the cities where the men had their
homes asking for stock pictures of the men and new shots
of the nearest of kin.

A photographer who lived nearby rushes into the office

12 GET THAT PICTURE

and starts loading his plates. His case soon bulges with a
complete outfit, loaded holders, flash bulbs, etcetra.

"Get down to the Eureka Auto Company office. A car
has been ordered for you to drive to Asbury Park," he is
told. One of the boys accompanies him. The train sched-
ules had been checked and there was no service to Asbury
Park until morning. He must get down there without a
moment's delay. Expense money is thrust into his hand, a
cry of "good luck," and last minute instructions are hurled
at him as he dashes for the elevator. He is to phone the
office as soon as he arrives.

The correspondent's calls are coming in. Jones at As-
bury Park is advised to hire a good seaworthy boat and
have it in readiness for the staff cameraman. Brown at
Lakewood is instructed to get down to Lakehurst hangar
in a rush and "shoot" pictures of the officers making rescue
plans, also the families of the Akron crew (many of the
men had their homes at Lakehurst), and also a shot of the
empty hangar at Lakehurst, a sad reminder of the Akron's
last voyage.

The latest news bulletins announce that the Navy De-
partment has ordered the new cruiser Portland and the
destroyers Cole and Bernadou from the Brooklyn Navy
Yard to scour the rough Atlantic waters for the missing
crew.

Pictures of the vessels are dragged from the files, copied
and rushed through for service.

The United Air, TWA and American Air Lines offices
are phoned to learn if the early morning outgoing planes
are flying. Looks doubtful, they reply. Weather is still
bad. '

A new crew of printers and boys has arrived, as well as
the day editor and another caption writer. Two photogra-
phers come in are told to load plenty of holders; one is to
go to Newark Airport to board a chartered plane, the other

GET THAT PICTURE 13

to Holmes Airport. They are to take off at the crack of
dawn.

Contact is made with the Coast Guard station at Staple-
ton, Staten Island. Yes, a Coast Guard destroyer is leav-
ing shortly, and will be able to accomodate one of the syndi-
cate's photographers. A new arrival with loaded equipment
is hurried there.

More news bulletins come ticking over the wires. Naval
planes from the Reserve Air Station at Floyd Bennett Field
will shove off at the first light of dawn. Boats from the
Beach Haven, Asbury Park and Atlantic City Coast Guard
and life saving stations are being rushed out into the angry
seas.

A new flash announces that the Coast Guard destroyer
Tucker has taken aboard Commander Wiley, two enlisted
men and the body of the fourth from the Phoebus in a mid-
ocean transfer and will head for New York. The ship will
arrive at the Brooklyn Navy Yard hospital about noon. The
Coast Guard is phoned. Yes, pictures of the transfer, two
shots, are being developed aboard ship, comes the answer,
and prints will be distributed to the newspapers and picture
agencies on its arrival.

Anxiety centers around the departure of the planes.
Will they be able to take off? It is still raining, though not
as heavy as it was earlier, and a fresh northeaster' still
holds. As a thick gray dawn breaks, the flying fields report
that in spite of a poor visibility and a strong wind, the
planes will take off.

News is still scant regarding the fate of the Akron's
crew. The Phoebus and a score of other ships searching
the vicinity of the crash report not a sign of any man,
living or dead. One of the ships has sighted some floating
wreckage but it is being pushed violently far out to sea. No
doubt but that the heavy combers had torn the huge ship

14 GET THAT PICTURE

asunder into a thousand pieces and plunged the heavier parts
into its depths.

Wires have arrived from the bureau managers at Los
Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta and Cleveland. Chicago is serv-
icing its list three good shots of the Akron, also a closeup
of Admiral Moffett and Commander Wiley. Cleveland is
servicing two Akron views and Admiral Moffett; Los
Angeles the same, and Atlanta is sending out two of the
Akron alone.

A general note to the picture editors of all the sub-
scribers has been rushed over the wire calling their attention
to several views of the Akron which had been serviced on a
certain date. This procedure assists them in the search of
their own files for pictures.

Trains and airmail schedules are checked. The weather
westward is good; the planes will take off. Packages of
photographs for the nearby evening paper subscribers are
given to a train porter or baggagemaster to deliver to the
newspaper representatives on their arrival. Within an hour
after their arrival, the photographs will have been scaled,
retouched, rushed to the photoengraving department for the
making of the cuts, then locked in on the page, mats and
castings made and then to the presses for the early editions.

Representatives of the air fields phone and announce
that the planes with the photographers aboard are already
in the air. The photographer at Asbury Park calls and
says that his boat is ready and will take off in a few minutes.

Motorcycle men are stationed at the airports to await
the return of the flying cameramen. The minute the planes'
wheels touch the ground these daring drivers will be rushing
back with the undeveloped plates.

The first phone call from one of the fields comes in about
eleven. The photographer reports his plane had flown low
over the scene and cruised around for a radius of many
miles but had only seen a few bits of wreckage. He had

GET THAT PICTURE 15

also made shots of the coast guard and naval vessels plow-
ing through the rough seas searching for wreckage and vic-
tims. They are the first pictures in on the story, not much,
to be truthful, but enough to illustrate it for the time being,
and enough to set every man and machine in the syndicate
at the highest pitch of action.

The motorcylist dashes in with the holders. The editor
turns them over to the waiting printer who locks himself in
the small darkroom. Within five minutes they are out of
the developer into the hypo. In a minute they are fixed,
given a hasty wash, and the first negative is placed into a
holder, given to the motorcycle man and rushed to the tele-
photo station. It's case of first come, first served; a print
is made and within fifteen minutes the wires to Chicago,
Cleveland, Boston, San Francisco and Los Angeles are
transmitting the picture onto a loaded drum in the receiving
rooms at the respective stations. Managers of the bureaus
will have messengers waiting for the finished films to rush
them back to the offices for servicing.

In the New York office, prints are being rushed from
the other negatives, hurried through developing and fixing
baths, given hasty washes, then onto the ferrotype machine
where the pictures are dried and given a permanent gloss.
Captions are pasted on hurriedly and then tossed over to the
mail clerk for distribution to waiting boys to rush them to
the evening papers and to the Pennsylvania and Grand
Central stations for train portering. Others are rushed to
Newark Airport to be air expressed on the earliest possible
planes to faraway members.

Washington in the meanwhile has advised that they are
airexpressing a good layout of the officers of the ill-fated
ship. A motorcycle man at Newark Airport awaits the
arrival for speedy despatch back to the office. There a close-
up of each officer is placed on the copying camera, two on
one film, and within a few minutes are ready for servicing.

1 6 GET THAT PICTURE

The Lakewood correspondent phones that he is porter-
ing a good batch of pictures he made at the Lakehurst
hangar, also photographs of enlisted men given to him by
their families. These are also met by a boy and rushed in
for printing.

At noon a battery of cameramen await the arrival of the
Tucker at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Commander Wiley
and two enlisted men are brought ashore on stretchers and
the body of the fourth who died aboard the Phoebus is
solemnly lowered. The photographers stay to make hos-
pital shots while boys expedite the first pictures back to the
offices.

Through the entire morning and afternoon the office
is a tumult of action. Every second counts to make the
necessary planes and trains; hundreds of prints fall off the
heated ferrotype machine to be snatched up, straightened
out, captioned and shoved hastily into envelopes. Every
man and boy has his place, his function.

Later in the afternoon the other flying cameraman
phones on his arrival that he had made some shots of a part
of a dirigible sticking up out of the water off Beach Haven
on the Jersey coast. He had not known at the time that he
was "shooting" another tragedy of the search; the small
dirigible J3 had been torn by the squall and plunged into the
ocean within sight of hundreds of horrified spectators who
had lined the shore. The J3 had been ordered from its
hangar at Lakehurst to join in the search for the Akron.

Another thrilling chapter in the history of news photog-
raphy is written by the photographer who had taken off in
a small boat from Asbury Park.

Pitched from the peaks of mountainous waves into swirl-
ing gullies, his tiny craft had been beaten and lashed by the
waves, threatening to swamp and sink it scores of times. Icy
waters soaked them to the skins, but he and the skipper kept
on going with never a thought to imminent disaster. His rigid

GET THAT PICTURE 17

fingers still clenched the dripping camera case. The credo
of the newspaper photographer was fixed in his mind; get
the picture. That is all that mattered. For hours they
kept on, scanning the seas in every direction. Waves beat
the craft mercilessly; a wall of water had crashed the wind-
shield glass of the open ship into their faces. With blood
flowing from many cuts, their bodies stiff from cold, and
soaked through and through, the skipper and cameraman
were forced to return as darkness slowly crept in. From the
hotel room he made his report, he was grieved because he
could find no wreckage to photograph.

Even the flying Knights of the Camera were unaware of
the dangers involved in their jobs. Their land planes had
flown over a large stretch of open sea, through rain and fog
and mist with only a clearing of weather now and again. It
would have been foolhardy, even with a seaplane. A sudden
plunge, and it would have been the end. But the search
had to go on. The pictures must be taken.

At the close of the day, a haggard, weary force of
editors, printers and boys slumped into chairs for a few
brief moments of rest and a hasty gulping of coffee and
sandwiches.

Over a desk stacked with a jumble of papers, clippings,
photographs and messages, the picture editor scanned a
wire just received from one of the subscribers.

"Great work. Beat competitors by half hour on first
pictures of Akron disaster/'

He smiled. A scoop. Well, it was worth it. Just then
the city editor bent over his shoulder with news copy in his
hand.

The picture editor was up in a flash.

"Hey, Jack," he yelled, in the direction of a weary
cameraman. "Get going, quick. There's a five alarm fire
on the East River waterfront."

The Akron disaster was already past history.

Chapter II.

THE CAMERA IS BORN— AND BECOMES A
GIANT

THE picture age is here. Everywhere the man with the
camera abounds, from the northernmost settlement in
Alaska down to the tip of Cape Horn. A story of either
paramount news importance or one with slight feature in-
terest is covered by the ubiquitous photographer. His lens
is trained on the passing event, and history is recorded
with the unfailing eye of the camera. It is the truthful,
impartial observer.

The scientist revels in its judgment; the artist thrills
in its revelations of lights and shadows; the newspaperman
marvels in its power to portray the event.

The sweeping beauty of a moon in eclipse is focused
and caught on the gelatine of a film; the grandeur of the
Alps buried in snow is a brilliant spectacle of light and
shadow; a ship is hurled against the rocks; an earthquake
tumbles the works of man into hideous ruins ; a mother and
child seek safety in flight from raging flood waters; maidens
dance beneath a May pole or Magyars strew flowers at a
holy feast; all the joys and sorrows that beset the world
are in a flash ensnared by the tiny lens, never to escape.

The click of the camera is heard around the world.

Little did Louis Jacques Daguerre struggling with his
plates and acids in his tiny Paris laboratory in 1839 realize
that one day his invention would be as mighty as the pen,
and mightier than the sword.

For years it remained the toddling infant. A daguerro-
type manual of 1840 explained that the most rapid ex-
posure for a white subject in direct Summer sunlight was

GET THAT PICTURE 19

four minutes. A vivid contrast to the present day's
i/2oooth of a second for news work and i/i,ooo,oooth
of a second in the scientific laboratory!

Daguerreotype exposures were so long that street scenes
showed no people; traffic and pedestrians did not remain
still enough for the lens to record the image.

Another pioneer in England helped pave the way. While
Daguerre was working on the method of taking pictures on a
silver coppered plate, Henry Fox Talbot experimented with
making pictures on paper. He took fine drawing paper,
soaked it in a solution of salt and then silver nitrate. This
process published in 1839 was the only practical one then
for making direct copies.

Steadily through the years the technique and the
methods of reproduction improved. But it was a slow
and cumbersome process. Still lifes and portraits were the
vogue. The ladies and gentlemen of the mid-Victorian
era flocked to the studios to have their likenesses captured
between frames of gilt and velvet.

The quality of the photographs was good, but painfully
slow. It took hours to develop the plates; a longer time
to fix and dry. Scientists labored on to improve the sensi-
tizing and developing processes; the subject with his or her
head held into immobility by a rack hidden from view of
the camera sat in the chair for what seemed hours long
while the perspiring photographer fingered his huge plates,
focused and refocused behind his large black cloth.

So massive was the equipment used in the early days of
its growth, that a journeying photographer was forced to
use a wagon for carrying it. Besides his huge camera and
plates, there was his glass, collodion, silver nitrate, devel-
oper, fixative, etc. After flowing his plates with collodion,
he exposed his subjects from ten to thirty seconds, then
hurried into a dark compartment for developing. The en-
tire operation required meticulous handling and care.

20 GET THAT PICTURE

During this entire period, the use of the photograph
for newspaper purposes was unknown. The illustrated
weeklies such as Leslie's and Harper's in this country, and
the London Illustrated News and others abroad, used steel
and copper engravings. The only means of reproduction
for the black and white dailies were the wood cut and line
drawing, crude but effective.

Joseph Pulitzer, the dynamic and enterprising publisher
of the New York World, realized the value of the news-
paper illustration as a circulation builder, and he was the
first to make extensive use of woodcuts.

The artist's conception of an outstanding personality
and event was etched on a slab of chalk mounted on a piece
of wood. Lead was poured into the lines of the sketch
and the newsprint took the resulting impression.

Other leading publishers followed suit, and toward the
end of the century the competition was keen in the publica-
tion of woodcuts and line drawings.

The discovery of the halftone engraving process by
Frederick Eugene Ives, a photographer employed by Cor-
nell University in 1879, opened the way for the use of the
photograph as a newspaper reproduction. Still many years
passed before the perfection of engraving processes en-
abled the newspaper to publish the first crude news photo-
graph. It was a slow, uphill climb, but the young giant
was on his way.

The first man to write pictorial history in the term of
news was Matthew Brady, a commercial photographer
with fine studios in New York and Washington. The Civil
War was his field of action. His photographs of the con-
flict, as well as those made by his large staff of assistants,
are his fine contribution to history.

After securing official permission to accompany the
Union Army, he got into action just before the battle of

GET THAT PICTURE 21

Bull Run, fought on July 21, 1861. A staff of twenty men,
employed by him, was hurried into other sectors.

Operators worked in pairs, one manipulating the camera,
the other in the dark tent which was mounted on a horse-
drawn wagon. The huge camera, with its 8 x 10 plates,
poised on tripod, was then trained on the battlefield, gen-
erally after the firing had died down and the ground was
strewn with bodies. The bulky, slow-speed box could
not catch soldiers charging or engaged in hand to hand
fighting, as the World War cameras later portrayed, but
still the job was almost as dangerous.

Working as they did, they were openly exposed to enemy
fire as the slow wet plate caught the scene for perpetuity.
Fragments of shell often shattered their cameras.

One of Brady's assistants, J. F. Coonley, was taking/
a picture of a Union bridge when a body of Confederate
cavalry surprised him at his work. They opened fire but
Coonley completed his job, then dashed for the engine
and train assigned to him for the task.

One of Brady's scenes, called "Harvest of Death,"
showing the bodies of soldiers strewn on the battlefield,
was widely circulated and attracted considerable attention.
On seeing this and other war photographs taken at the
time, Oliver Wendell Holmes, the famous poet, remarked:
"The sight of these pictures is a commentary on civilization
such as a savage might well triumph to show its mission-

aries."

The photograph was already impressing mankind in
its revulsion to the bestial savagery of war.

At a later date, the World War pictorial record was to
be shown to the world to reveal horror and brutality where
the magic of the word had failed to impress. The lens
had stripped warfare of its glamor.

It was unfortunate that the newspaper was unequipped
to reproduce these war scenes. It is true that thousands

22 GET THAT PICTURE

of prints were distributed for sale (Brady had to realize
some return for the thousands of dollars he invested in
this venture), and that many found their way into the
illustrated weeklies, but the moral effect would have been
the greater had the avid readers of the dailies, scanning
the latest war news, seen these stark portrayals of the
fighting fronts.

Many of Brady's pictures were made in duplicate and
triplicate.

But his venture, the first into the realm of big news,
was a financial failure. One of his creditors acquired one
of the sets of negatives. He placed another set in storage,
but in 1873 he was forced to auction these when he was
unable to pay his storage bill. The War Department was
the purchaser.

Only through the untiring efforts of General Banjamin
F. Butler and James A. Garfield, later President, was Brady
given national recognition and an appropriation of $25,000
was finally voted as payment for his collection.

At the present time there are in the care of the Army
Pictorial Service, a branch of the Signal Corps of the
United States Army. There are over 6,000 negatives in the
files.

The duplicate set was virtually forgotten for many
years. Carelessly handled, many of the plates were cracked
and broken. Finally rediscovered, they were reproduced
in a ten-volume publication in 1911, called the "Photographic
History of the Civil War."

The news photographer had for the first time carved a
niche in history's hall of fame. Brady, the commercial
photographer, is remembered as the news photographer.

For a long period following the close of the Civil War,
there was little improvement in photography, although
much research was done in the laboratories. It was the age
of the familiar tintypes.

GET THAT PICTURE 23

The photographer still coated his glass with collodion,
obtained by dissolving nitro-cotton in a mixture of ether
and alcohol, immersed it in a solution of silver nitrate and
then placed in the camera still wet. After the exposure,
it had to be developed and fixed on the spot.

The spurt came when silver bromide came into use as a
sensitizing agent and dry plates came into usage with the
work of Bennett in 1879.

In 1880, George Eastman put his dry plate on the
market. Eight years later he introduced to the public the
first camera which did not have to be supported by a table
or tripod. It was his famous Kodak. The camera was
able to take 100 exposures on bromide paper, but the
purchaser was forced to return the camera with the ex-
posed paper to Eastman's Rochester plant to be unloaded
and developed. The paper was later replaced by celluloid,
followed by his "daylight loading cartridges." The
camera's compactness and reasonable cost appealed to the
public.

The man on the street was now beginning to learn and
enjoy the art of photography.

Pictures in newspapers were in demand. Pulitzer filled
his morning and evening World with the crude woodcuts and
line cuts made from drawings. William Randolph Hearst
did the same with his morning and evening Journal. The
battle of the rival giants was on. Circulation figures leaped
ahead. The Spanish-American War boosted the use
of pictures and the circulation of the rival papers leaped
forward.

It was not until the turn of the century when photo-
engraving was introduced that the first photographs were
used as newspaper illustrations. The woodcuts and linecuts
were discarded and the first crude photographs made their
appearance in the dailies.

The illustrated weeklies thrived. The enterprise of

24 GET THAT PICTURE

Robert J. Collier accounted for the immediate success of a
new weekly he started about the time of the outbreak of the
Spanish-American War. He sent James Henry Hare,
soldier of fortune, war correspondent and photographer,
to Cuba to cover the short-lived conflict. One of his war
pictures, the shattered battleship Maine in the harbor of
Havana, won world acclaim.

Pictures had helped Collier to fame and fortune.

In the early i9Oo's, the first picture syndicates were
started, first Bain's, then American Press, followed by
Underwood and Underwood and others. In those years
the press photographer used a variety of 8 x 10 cameras,
bulky and tricky to manipulate. The Graphic and Graflex
with their fast lenses and shutters had yet to make their
appearance.

While Pulitzer and Hearst tilted swords and lifted
news photographs to front page importance, it remained
for the genius of English journalism, the late Lord North-
cliffe to create the first illustrated daily tabloid, the Daily
Mirror. It proved to be the greatest stimulant to news
photography, as was later indicated by the mad scramble
of other English publishers to follow suit.

In 1903, Lord Northcliffe or known then as Alfred
Harmsworth before he was knighted, had started the
Mirror as a women's newspaper. It was written and
edited by women. The venture was Northcliffe's first fail-
ure and cost him $500,000. He decided to change it into
a pictorial tabloid, the first of its kind. The people liked
pictures. The great success of the Illustrated London
News and the Graphic, both weeklies, attested to that.

The London Daily Graphic had been using line drawings
with moderate success. Northcliffe decided that news pho-
tographs would win the readers. And it did.

In went a staff of young men, vigorous and enterprising.
Photographic and developing departments were started,

DEATH TAKES A FLING IN WALL STREET

The scene at Broad end Wall Streets, in the heart of New York's financial
district, on September 16, 1920, following: the terrific explosion which killed
thirty persons and injured more than 300. The blast shattered windows for
blocks around and threw the financial district into a panic. It was believed
to have been caused by a time bomb left in a one-horse truck in front of
the United States Assay Office, across from the J. P. Morgan Building-.

^ Wide World Photos

HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

Desperately clinging- to the rigging- of their wrecked whaler, the Sohlagen,
are five members of its crew. Below them are the swirling- waters of the
South Atlantic which is pounding the craft to pieces as it' lies on the jagged
rocks of Robben Island off the Cape of Good Hope. Six of the crew lost
their lives. These five survivors were taken off by means of breeches-buoy
shortly after this remarkable photograph was taken.

r«friP|j
•» * *«:<

BONUS MARCHERS AND POLICE CLASH

A tense and dramatic scene as bonus veterans, armed with sticks, pipes
and rocks, grimly fight Washington, D. C., police on an open lot within a
stone's throw of the nation's Capitol. Five policemen and more than a dozen
veterans were injured in this fray which took place in summer of 1932.
Joseph Costa, New York Daily News photographer, braved flying rocks, to
make this remarkable picture.

The cameraman snapped this remarkable picture the instant this Sydney,
Australia, pier collapsed, throwing many persons into the water. A boat
carrying 300 hikers from Newcastle, New South "Wales, had arrived at*
Sydney. About 30 young persons jumped on to the wharf. The pier gave
way under their weight. Many had narrow escapes from drowning.

GET THAT PICTURE 25

and a staff of photographers were assigned to cover stories
throughout Great Britain. He engaged correspondent-
photographers in all parts of the world to rush their first
and best material to him.

When the change was made, the Mirror's circulation
had dropped to 20,000. The new paper, now called the
Illustrated Mirror, started with a circulation of 60,000
which soon increased to 100,000.

Special trains were hired to rush the plates back to
London; the Mirror bloomed with photographic beats. To
the four corners of the world went his camera correspond-
ents. One of them accompanied Colonel Theodore Roose-
velt on his African hunting trip, and the American pub-
lishers kept the cables humming with requests for prints.

The enterprise of the Mirror in despatching a camera-
man post-haste to the scene of the Messina, Italy, earth-
quake, proved to be of financial benefit as well.

The speed with which the photographer hastened to
the scene and back to London enabled Northcliffe to sell
duplicate sets of photographs all throughout Europe, even
including Italian newspapers. He made an $8,000 profit
on the picture beat. During the Turkish-Italian war, the
Mirror flourished with photographic scoops.

In the beginning it was difficult to secure well trained
cameramen. The field was new and Northcliffe paid those
he hired salaries that were considered fabulous in compari-
son with the pay of the average news reporter. Youth saw
an adventurous and well-paying career in news photography
and flocked to its standards.

Northcliffe insisted on good, clean pictures. He was
a stern censor and allowed no photographs to be published
that he thought would shock the good taste of the readers.

An illustration of this was shown in the coverage of the
Jeffries-Johnson championship fight at Carson City, Nevada.
The Mirror was spending thousands to have the photo-

26 GET THAT PICTURE

graphs rushed back to England, and special editions were
to be run off. Northcliffe was shown the proof sheets just
before the paper went to press.

"Don't print one of those photographs," he shouted to
the editor. "It is likely to prove offensive to our decent
women readers."

The fight pictures were never published.

For many years Northcliffe tried to interest American
publishers in the daily tabloid, but the response was cold.
The American reader likes his full-sized newspaper, he
was told. The opinion was emphatic that the tabloid would
never flourish on American soil.

It remained for many years to pass before Joseph
Medill Patterson and Robert R. McCormick, publishers of
the Chicago Tribune, were to start a newspaper which
later enjoyed the largest circulation in the Western Hemi-
sphere, the New York Daily News.

Prior to its appearance as the Illustrated Daily News
on June 26, 1919, the use of news pictures throughout the
United States was making a slow but sure progress. Camera
equipment and photographic facilities were being constantly
improved. The reflex cameras, such as the Graflex, had
made their appearance. The lea with its 4 x 6 plates
was a handy camera enjoyed by the early news photogra-
phers. The shutter speeds were being constantly pushed
upward. Pictures could be taken under all conditions.

Hearst had already made his name as a pioneer of news
pictures and encouraged his editors in the fast shipment
of pictures for first publication. He had astounded the staid
conservatives by chartering a special train to rush the
Jeffries-Johnson pictures from Carson City, Nevada, to his
San Francisco publication and beat the opposition by so
many hours that they could not use them.

In 1913 the late Adolph Ochs, publisher of the New
York Times, while abroad, investigated German develop-

GET THAT PICTURE 27

ments in rotogravure. He ordered two presses to be ship-
ped to this country.

Early in 1914, the first rotogravure supplement in the
United States made its appearance in the New York Times.
It contained reproductions of paintings for the Altman
collection. From that day on, the Sunday circulation, then
lagging far behind the daily totals, had gained a solid
100,000, and rotogravure was on its way.

Under the able management of the late William Henry
Field, the Illustrated Daily News, later changed to The
News, New York's Picture Newspaper, advanced steadily
in prestige and circulation. After a short lapse when the
circulation dropped, the first 100,000 was reached in De-
cember, 1919, climbing steadily upward, until in December,
1925, the daily issue averaged more than one million.

When the short lapse of a decreasing circulation oc-
curred, the "I told you so's" beamed. Of course, the tabloid
could not take hold in America. But the newspaper was
then on spindly, toddling legs. It was seeking a way out
of the experimental stage. When the novelty wore off, and
the paper was being published on its merits, the public
realized that it had been founded as a lasting institution, and
the circulation leaped ahead.

The subway riders enjoyed its handy size, as well as
its pictures and features, and the News out of its experi-
mental stage had come to stay.

The managing editor was Philip Payne, a robust New
Jersey newspaperman, with a keen sense for the news in
pictures; the photographers, almost as many in number
as the reporters, covered the local events with their trusty
leas. Continual experimentation went on; the darkrooms
were improved, close attention was given to the quality
and make-up of the pictures; the News developed a photo-
engraving process of its own which in fine results had no
equal.

28 GET THAT PICTURE

At the close of 1921, the News, together with its parent
paper, the Chicago Tribune, started the Pacific and Atlantic
Photo Syndicate, and within a short while 1500 photogra-
pher-correspondents the world over were sending in their
masterpieces of news and features.

Other picture syndicates had already made their start;
Hearst with his International News Photos, the New York
Times with the Wide World Photos, starting in 1919
with a staff of six to emerge soon with hundreds of corres-
pondents in every corner of the world; the Newspaper
Enterprise Association, started by the Scripps-Howard
combination, later to become the Acme News Photos and
another leader in the picture-gathering business. In 1926,
the Associated Press, then primarily a news gathering
organization, turned its attention to the importance of
news pictures and inaugurated the Associated Press Photos.

The success of the Daily News boomed the news pic-
ture as a powerful circulation builder, and picture tabloids
sprung up in all parts of the country. Even those pub-
lishers who had been loathe to change format and policy
swung with the demand and opened their pages to news
photographs. They built their own photo-engraving plants,
subscribed to one of the large syndicates, hired a staff of
photographers, built darkrooms and bought equipment.
Many publishers, to get the best results possible, subscribed
to all the leading syndicates so that they could reap the
benefits of periodical scoops. Still others added the roto-
gravure supplement to their Sunday editions.

With competition keen, and demand intensified, the
keynote of the syndicates and newspapers became Speed,
more Speed. The newspapers employed their own staff
of cameramen to cover local news; the syndicates opened
bureaus in the key cities, staff photographers were on the
job from coast to coast. Able, free-lance photographers
in the smaller cities and outlying districts were encouraged

GET THAT PICTURE 29

by the syndicate to send in their material, and were well
paid for their efforts.

Hundreds of the smaller dailies, weeklies and semi-
weeklies contracted for the mat services built up by the
syndicates. For a nominal price, the picture page, in
matrix form, would be received by the smaller newspaper,
all prepared for only the casting.

Within a short time after its occurrence, a major news
story would have its pictorial reproduction scanned over
the breakfast table of every resident from Maine to Cali-
fornia.

Mrs. Vincent Astor at a Newport horse show or bask-
ing in the Palm Beach sun; the Prince of Wales attending
an official function or jumping the hurdles on his favorite
horse; the ascetic Mahatma Ghandi in his simple linen
cloth and Billy Sunday storming at the unregenerate, be-
came as fully familiar in every expression of look and eye
as the local deacon or groceryman.

Cables and wires were speeding the news; the ships
and planes and trains were bringing the pictures.

Chartering planes to expedite the news picture became
an everyday occurrence; even with the first airmail and
later expansion of routes, the syndicates turned to the fast-
est means of conveyance to get the first picture in on a big
story.

Photographic laboratories turned scientific experiments
into successes to meet the ever increasing demand for better
and speedier products. Larger and faster lenses were built
to cope with poor light conditions and stop the speediest
action. Fast emulsion plates were put on the market. Pan-
chromatic and infra-red negatives were manufactured to
overcome atmospheric conditions. Development of acces-
sory equipment, as light meters,, range finders, filters and
synchronizers, were reaching their highest peak.

The trend of equipment was toward compactness and

30 GET THAT PICTURE

simplification. The three-foot spread pan with the dan-
gerous magnesium powder evolved into the safe and handy
photo flash bulb; the bulky 8 x 10 negatives decreased in
size, first to 6£ x 8|, then to 5 x 7, still smaller to 4 x 6,
then to 4 x 5, and finally down to 3J x 4. Huge cameras
were discarded in favor of a sturdy and compact Graphic
and Graflex, and then the miniature Contax and Leica to
snap the intimate and informal.

The newspaper photographer has also developed
through the years into a staunch and reliable pillar of the
press. In the beginning he was ofttimes ignored and avoided
by the reporter, and looked down upon as a nuisance and
interloper. True, the early type was often rude and brusque,
but the rudeness and brusqueness was born of necessity
and the flare-up of the underdog. He had to push himself
into unwanted places and situations. The public was aloof
to the cameraman and the notables felt it was a breach of
decorum to pose for him.

Today the photographer is on the same plane with the
reporter. On most stories the men plan together, work as
one unit. The publisher has seen fit that the newspaper's
photographic staff is given as much care and attention as
his reportorial force. Through grit and courage, loyalty
and self-sacrifice, the Knight of the Camera has gained
his deserved laurels.

The constant desire to get the first and best possible
pictures on a story has led to many startling changes in
transportation. Planes and trains were chartered fre-
quently, and even speedboat and dog-sled and motorcycle
were used to bring in the first pack of negatives.

The following illustration of coverage on a big story
is typical of the many of the time.

Gunnar Kasson had made front page history with his
dash across the frozen Alaskan snows with dog team bear-

GET THAT PICTURE 31

ing serum to diphtheria-stricken Nome. It saved thousands
of lives.

The pictures of the arrival made by a Nome photo-
grapher-correspondent for a big syndicate were turned over
to a Captain Hegness who rushed 870 miles from Nome
to Nenana in a record trip by dog-sled, traveling 18 hours
a day. At Nenana, Hegness boarded a train leaving for
Seward, 400 miles distant. At Seward, the steamship
Alaska was waiting, steam up, and a bundle of plates was
turned over to the captain. In Seattle, 1300 miles south,
the coast representative of the syndicate, started north with
a seaplane. At Cape Jazon, 300 miles north of Seattle,
he put out in a speedboat and received the plates, heavily
wrapped in oilcloth, as they were lowered over the side
of the ship. Fifteen minutes later, he was speeding back
to Seattle, arriving there 15 hours before the steamship
Alaska. From Seattle the pictures were printed and dis-
tributed. A southbound plane was chartered to fly the pic-
tures to the California members, another was started east
with prints and negatives for the Central and Eastern
bureaus and subscribers. It was a grand scoop.

As speed became more and more essential, experiments
were being conducted in many quarters to transmit picture
by wire, utilizing the telephonic and telegraphic wires. In
1921, the New York World successfully transmitted the
picture of an Indian head to the St. Louis Post Dispatch,
using a telephone circuit. In 1923, the first telegraphed
picture of the Japanese earthquake was sent from Seattle
to Los Angeles, Chicago and New York. The following
year, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company
demonstrated their first pictures of the Republican Conven-
tion in Cleveland in a test of telephone wire transmission.
In December of the same year, the Radio Corporation
of America gave a public demonstration of picture trans-
mission by radio from England to America. Likewise in

32 GET THAT PICTURE

Europe wired transmission of pictures was taking a firm
hold.

A new era in picture gathering and reproduction had
been opened. It meant that a picture could be received
at the newspaper's offices with almost the same speed as
the descriptive story; it broadened and accelerated the
development of pictorial journalism. The managing editor
shouted with the same gusto for the picture as for the
story, whether it broke on his back lots or in the Chinese
hinterland.

The camera had become a powerful giant in the field
of journalism.

And he is still growing!

Chapter III.

THE TRAIN, PLANE, PIGEON, WIRE AND RADIO
CARRY THE PICTURE

From the first days of the news picture, the newspapers
and picture syndicates have utilized every means of convey-
ance to bring the reproduction of the event before the eyes
of the reader: from the interior of China the donkey and
jinrikishaw have brought the flood and famine pictures; the
carrier pigeon carried the film in Japan; native runners
brought the pictures from the jungle interiors; dog sleds
bore the negatives from the Arctic wastes; every known
vehicle in Europe and America has expedited the photo-
graph, the automobile, train, speedboat, airplane, dirigible,
motorcycle, until man turned to the laboratory and found
a miracle in the radio and telephone wire to span the leagues
in a lightning leap and carry the picture with the speed of a
dot and dash and a wired conversation.

In the beginning, the picture languished far behind the
news story; days, weeks, and even a month or two would
elapse before the reader would be presented with the illus-
tration. Today we are presented with the ultima in speed;
a picture can be snapped in the forests of the Tyrol and in
several hours the readers of Los Angeles will be presented
with a newspaper reproduction, literally, before the story
breaks, for there will be about a ten hour difference in time.

Editors blinked and rubbed their eyes when the late
Lord Northcliffe ordered his photographer to charter a
vessel, the only one obtainable in Italian waters, to carry
him to Tripoli to cover the start of hostilities between Tur-
key and Italy, and when he docked startled a cab driver by
shouting: "Drive me to the battlefield!" It was setting

34 GET THAT PICTURE

historic precedent, and the newspaper world gasped still
more when the London Daily Mirror carried the first and
exclusive pictures of the conflict. It was something new,
startling in the world of newspapers, and when the circula-
tion of the Mirror leaped higher and higher with North-
cliffe's successive picture scoops, the publishers realized then
and there that they would have to follow the dazzling pace
set by the great genius of Fleet Street. Chartering ships
and trains became a commonplace in the field of news pho-
tography. Speed, speed — more speed — became the shib-
boleth and battle cry of a score of editors.

Into the far corners of the world went the man with the
camera, using the fastest means of conveyance to get to and
from the scene of the story. It was the day of the ship
and train; the airplane had yet to make its appearance. By
ship and train the cameraman hurried to the battlefields of
the Balkan Wars; and even Northcliffe had earlier dispatch-
ed a photographer from far-off London to cover the gold
rush in the Yukon. Distances mattered not; it was the
slogan of the editor then, as it is today: "Get the picture!
And bring it back first!"

When William Randolph Hearst in this country char-
tered a special train to carry the first pictures of the Wil-
lard-Johnson fight in Carson City, Nevada, to his paper in
San Francisco for a clean beat of a day or more, he was
creating a new epoch in pictorial journalism in this country;
and it was not long before other publishers and editors took
up the challenge and initiated a rivalry which still holds
until this day.

The problems for the syndicate and newspaper editors
became a bit more involved, complex. It became not alone
their duty to utilize the best and fastest cameras and para-
phernalia, the speeding up of printing and engraving meth-
ods, but it was their task to establish the best and fastest
media for getting the cameraman to the scene and back with

GET THAT PICTURE 35

the pictures to the office. Placing the pictures in the mail,
with a special delivery stamp attached, was too ordinary,
too regular a procedure. The editor could not afford to sit
back in his swivel chair and wait for the arrival of the post-
man.

The syndicate took up a new weapon. A cameraman in
a distant city had taken some spot news pictures. How to
get them back pronto? Why not give the package of films
or prints to a passenger or train employe? It would mean
a saving of several or more hours, so the trick was done.
The cameraman would entrust the pictures to the passenger
or employe, and then phone or wire the office that such and
such a party in a certain car would arrive at the station at a
certain time, and the syndicate or newspaper representative
would be at the station to pick up the package. But great
care had to be exercised that a rival paper or syndicate
would not pick up the package by "mistake." Train sched-
ules were figured very carefully by the editor, and on many
occasions time would be saved by rerouting a package from
a distant city on several different lines. Also, many min-
utes would be saved by meeting the train at a suburban
point, and rushing the pictures in by motorcycle. It became
a favorite stunt for New York syndicate editors to dis-
patch a motorcycle man to Manhattan Transfer on the out-
skirts of Newark to pick up a package on the Pennsylvania
system. The motorcyclist would be back in the office, espe-
cially if it were located in the Park Row district, at the time
the train was pulling into Pennsylvania Station further up-
town. The ten minute saving meant that a beat could be
established; the sales of the picture added to the syndicate's
coffers; to the newspaper it might mean the making of an
edition.

The early planes were still too costly a proposition ex-
cept on very outstanding stories, and then, the syndiqate
would not hesitate to hire the best available pilots and the

36 GET THAT PICTURE

speediest planes, spending thousands of dollars to bring in
the first pictures.

There were more thrills in the airplane race from Shelby,
Montana, to bring in the first pictures of the Jack Dempsey-
Tommy Gibbons fight on July 4, 1923, then there was in the
long-drawn out battle between the ring gladiators. Eleven
planes competed in the race. Torrential rains and fierce
winds held no terrors for the doughty fliers, and when one
was forced down, another plane was in readiness to pick up
the plates and carry on. Editors in the home offices were
glued to the phones, missing their meals and sleep, keeping
in touch with the distant points, ready to hire automobiles
and fresh planes to keep up the gruelling pace. The pilots,
too, reckless in their defiance of the elements, for the planes
in those days were mere frameworks of body, wing and
wire, felt the cry and surge of battle and refused to quit,
keeping on until every ounce of energy was spent. Many of
them staggered out of their cockpits on the completion of a
relay, haggard, famished, punch-drunk, as though they
themselves had partaken in the Shelby "battle of the cen-
tury." The storm king high above the clouds came near
giving them the knockout punch in many a rain-swept corner.

Well lighted fields were scarce. The airmail service had
just about started. The country could not boast of more
than a half dozen good airports with decent runways. The
pilot as well as the editor and cameraman who sometimes
climbed aboard with him all took their lives in their hands
when a delivery of pictures had to be made. Many a flight
started and ended in a field and meadow. Flares on an open
field were the only light to guide the starting or the oncom-
ing plane. When Wesley Smith took off from the grassy
field at Van Cortlandt Park in New York City on the night
of September 14, 1923, to carry the pictures of the Demp-
sey-Firpo fight at the Polo Grounds to a Cleveland syndicate
bureau, flares held by two men and a swinging lantern held

GET THAT PICTURE 37

by a third was the only light available to give Smith his di-
rections for a most thrilling takeoff. His time of seven
hours in landing safely at a Cleveland field through a lane
of flares was considered a marvelous feat in those days.
Today the same distance is traversed in about two hours by
one of our high-speed commercial Goliaths of the air.

When blizzards, thick fog and terrific rainstorms made
it absolutely impossible for the pilots to venture into the air,
the syndicate would often resort to the chartered train to
carry the pictures. In that event, an entire car would be
set up with darkroom, printing facilities, and tables and
typewriter for the sorting and captioning of the finished
prints, all ready for instant delivery the moment the train
would pull in at the station. While the two or three car
train swayed and lurched, the employees would calmly go
through all their duties of turning out the pictures as if
they were back in their own offices. In one trip from Wash-
ington to New York in 1925, the special train hired by a
New York syndicate to develop and print the Coolidge in-
auguration pictures made the 226 mile trip in three hours,
and 40^ minutes, clipping nearly two hours from the ordi-
nary running time.

On another occasion, a Boston newspaper frantically de-
manded the pictures of the Dempsey-Tunney fight in Phila-
delphia. The weather was terrible. Not a plane could
take off. The enterprising Boston paper wanted the pic-
tures for their final edition. The negatives were already in
New York. How could the pictures be sent to Boston in
time ? Finally, the syndicate in New York arranged the hire
of a special train from New York to Boston at a cost of
$1,000. The two-car train plunged through the storm of
the night with a clear right of way, and the pictures were
developed and printed enroute. The train broke all speed
records between New York and Boston, thundering along
the wet rails at nearly a hundred-mile-an-hour speed. The

38 GET THAT PICTURE

Boston morning newspaper got their pictures and made their
last edition for a clean scoop over all rivals.

The extension of the air mail routes to all parts of the
country and the inauguration of the air express service in
1927 helped speed up the transportation of the news pic-
tures, and today, thousands of pictures are being sent daily
by this system. Faster commercial planes in the airmail
services are continually cutting down the running time, and
where it formally took 30 hours for the transportation of
a picture from New York to Los Angeles by air, the same
distance is covered in only 15 hours. There is hardly a city
of any size in the country that is not linked to the airmail
network, and the editor, with the assistance of the airmail
guide, is able to reckon closely on the time he can expect
pictures from a point where a news story has broken, or the
time a member newspaper can expect to receive pictures
which have been syndicated.

But in spite of the efficient service rendered by the air-
mail and airexpress, the syndicates still charter the plane
on extraordinary occasions, not alone to make the invaluable
airviews and transport the photographer to the scene of the
story, but also to bring the pictures into the office and assist
in wire transmission. In the recent New London, Texas,
school-house disaster, in which 455 children and teachers
perished, an airplane was chartered to fly from Dallas to
Tyler, fifteen miles from the scene of the catastrophe, pick
up prints which a free lance photographer had made, and
continue on to Memphis, Tennessee, to meet another plane
sent from St. Louis carrying a syndicate bureau manager
with a portable wired photo transmitter, and then transmit
the pictures direct to receiving points in various parts of the
country.

Bureau managers are constantly expediting news pictures
to various other points by air express, and immediately
after shipping in such manner, they wire or phone the office

GET THAT PICTURE 39

that such and such pictures are due to arrive on a certain
line and a certain time, even giving the waybill number. A
motorcycle boy is then sent to the airport to pick up the
package. Such procedure in meeting the planes often results
in the saving of at least a half hour or more which is con-
siderable, from a newspaper editor's standpoint.

From the earliest days till the present, the plane has
been a reliable carrier of the news picture, and the picture
syndicate has never failed to rely upon it in time of need.
A notable scoop with the aid of a plane was the first arrival
of the pictures showing Gertrude Ederle's swim across the
English Channel in August, 1926. A package of pictures
was dropped from a ship at the mouth of the St. Lawrence
River, picked up by a waiting seaplane, and then brought to
New York in a record-breaking four-plane relay, battling
through dense fogs and terrific electric storms to give the
syndicate a 24-hour beat. Through the continent's worst
flying region, a New York syndicate in July, 1933, sent a
plane to Cartwright, Labrador, 1500 miles away, to make
the pictures of the first landing on American soil of the
Italian air armada of 24 planes led by General Italo Balbo.
It set a new record in aerial trips especially to make pic-
tures* In 1931, a chartered plane made a non-stop flight
from Managua, Nicaragua, to New York, carrying the first
pictures of the earthquake disaster which killed 1000 per-
sons, and resulted in a great scoop for the syndicate.

From the day a ship carried a London Daily Mirror
photographer to the scene of the Messina, Italy, earth-
quake in 1908, to make the first pictures of the catastrophe
which resulted in the deaths of many thousands, the steam-
ship has figured in the thrilling annals of picture history.
Over the vast stretches of the Atlantic and the Pacific, long
before the dirigible and the clipper planes spanned the
waters, the syndicates have depended on the fast greyhounds

40 GET THAT PICTURE

of the sea to bring in the news photographs from the other
continents.

In spite of the occasional outstanding news picture sent
by radio from Europe to America, the large liners are con-
stantly bringing in the bulky packages filled with the best
of Europe's news and feature offerings. The pursers are en-
trusted with the packages, and after a survey by the customs
men at Quarantine for payment of duty, the pictures are
turned over to the syndicate's cameraman who has boarded
the ship from the government cutter.

Even this time saving method has not been found to be
fast enough on many occasions. A terrible disaster will
have occurred in a European country, costing hundreds of
lives. A syndicate here will wish to achieve a scoop over its
rivals. A radio message will be sent to the London manager
of the syndicate that the pictures will be picked up by sea-
plane off the American coast. A cooper aboard the ship
will make a fairly large sized barrel, place the pictures in-
side, and then solder the sides to make it waterproof. About
one hundred miles off the coast, as a seaplane looms in the
distance, the barrel is thrown overboard. The plane care-
fully descends on the swells, lashes the barrel to the pon-
toons, and pulls it in. The top is forcibly taken off and the
pictures removed. After some difficulty, the plane arises
and is off for the airport nearest the office. Another device
is also used. The syndicate will arrange for the purchase of
a life preserver, attach a sealed can with the pictures en-
closed, and throw it into the water for the pickup by the
plane.

The dirigible Hindenburg was called into service by a
syndicate to bring in the first pictures of the 1936 Olympics.
A radio message was sent to the skipper to arrange for the
attachment of the pictures to a parachute to be thrown over-
board on its appearance over Lakehurst, New Jersey. The
syndicate arranged for the presence of a customs man to

•an

**&••':

CHARGING AT THE PHOTOGRAPHER

Death was the price paid for this picture at Morgan Hill, California. Dr.
Garruccio, attracted by the picturesque burro outfit and its aged prospector
owner, snapped this photograph. Peter Voiss, the aged prospector, is shown
leaping with rage as he runs toward the cameraman. A few second after
snapping this picture, Dr. Garruccio was fatally wounded by a charge of
buckshot. Authorities developed the film and took Voiss into custody.

Immediately after this remarkable picture was taken, the East Indian leopard
sprang upon his trainer, Albert Allcorn. But Olga Celeste, another animal
trainer, grabbed a club and drove off the animal, saving Allcorn from serious

injury.

A remarkable photograph of horses tearing down the home stretch on a
Long Island race track, taken by Charles Brinkman, a Pacific and Atlantic
Photos staff cameraman. He crawled under the rail and flung himself on
the ground to point his camera toward the charging horses, escaping only
by a few scant inches from being struck by the flying hoofs.

GET THAT PICTURE 41

check the contents for duty payment. At daybreak the giant
airship swung over the Lakehurst hangar; the package was
dropped and picked up. For six hours the dirigible was un-
able to land because of unfavorable winds, and the syndi-
cate was able to beat its rivals all over the country.

The motorcycle is a favorite means of fast conveyance
in and around the city. Every large syndicate has two or
three motorcycle drivers, and on big stories, such as cham-
pionship fights where plans are carefully made in advance,
as many as five or six extra motorcycle men will be hired.
Through the dense street traffic the motorcyclist will flash
in and out bringing in the first undeveloped plates from the
fight or the world's series games, making as many as a half
dozen trips to and from the stadium. It is a common sight
to see as many as a dozen motorcycles bunched outside a
fight arena, with riders at the handlebars, all ready to dash
off the minute a boy brings out the precious bundle of plates.
Others will bring prints later to the local newspapers, and
still others will streak to Newark Airport, 14 miles away,
to place the bundles of prints aboard the waiting planes.
One night, a motorcyclist, with a clear right of way, made
the distance in 14% minutes, just in time to make the plane.
He had never thought he could make it, but like the rest of
the men in the picture game who always try for success
though the odds are against them, decided to make the at-
tempt— and he succeeded. Many of these brave fellows have
skidded their machines along wet, slippery streets and high-
ways, always flirting with injury or death, to carry out their
jobs. There is scarcely a picture syndicate motorcyclist who
cannot show you marks and bruises on his body, the results
of accidents.

One night, a rider employed by a picture syndicate was
bringing back some undeveloped negatives from the Long
Island City Bowl where a championship fight was taking
place. Crossing the Queensboro Bridge at great speed, he

42 GET THAT PICTURE

hit a car full on, and was catapulted from his machine, land-
ing on his head. Barely conscious, he mumbled to the first
passerby who rushed to his aid: "Quick, get a taxi, and give
the driver my plates strapped there to the machine. He
will be paid at the office." He slumped into unconsciousness.
Another valiant soldier of the picture army!

In the frozen stretches of the Far North dog teams are
often used as the fast conveyance to bring the pictures of a
Amundsen-Ellsworth polar flight or Byrd expedition to a
waiting ship or plane. Motor boats chugging in and out of
the Ohio Valley flood waters in the winter of 1937, were a
frequent sight, bringing cameramen in and out of the other-
wise inaccessible places.

In Japan, the carrier pigeons have been used for many
years to bring in the first news pictures from the rugged
interiors, and well-equipped pigeon lofts, some housing as
many as 500 birds, are to be seen on the roofs of such pub-
lications as the Asahi, the Nichi Nichi and Yomiuri in
Tokyo and the Asahi in Osaka. They are grey-green birds
typical of those owned by carrier fanciers in the United
States, and are capable of making 50 to 150 mile flights,
sometimes beating an airplane to the office. It is a common
sight to see a cameraman go out on an assignment in the
interior carrying a basket with a dozen or more birds, each
carrier wearing an aluminum leg ring bearing its number
and name of the newspaper.

After taking his picture, the cameraman dons a black
jacket, and under this flowing robe removes the exposed
film from his holder and loads it into a black rubber cylinder,
about four inches long and weighing less than an ounce. A
tiny cap is then screwed tightly on, and the cylinder is then
wrapped around the bird's neck by means of a rubber band,
while another rubber band encircles the tail to keep it firmly
in place. The bird then takes off, never stopping until it
alights on a desk in the editor's office. From a distance of

GET THAT PICTURE 43

50 miles, the pigeon arrives at the office within 40 minutes.
Another bird is then sent with a duplicate film as protection
in case an accident overtakes the first carrier. These birds
are also often used in carrying films from ships at sea.

The greatest boon to the ever-widening use of the news
photograph has been the introduction of the radioed and
wired picture. Picture "messages" are being constantly
flashed in most parts of the world. Hours, days, even
weeks, have been cut down to minutes and hours, and the
publishers, alive to the readers' ever-growing demand for
the immediate news picture, have subscribed to one service
or the other which has its own wire transmitting device.

In the early experimental days, the radio and wire pic-
tures were crude. Details were hardly recognizable. Some
looked like wash drawings after the art department's re-
toucher had finished salvaging what otherwise would have
been impossible to print. But the spirit of enterprise en-
couraged the inventors; some processes were tried out for a
while and then discarded, others were constantly improved
upon, until today there is hardly a photograph that has been
wired that does riot compare favorably with the original.
Even in the more difficult field, the radio, the photographs
transmitted from London and Buenos Aires to New York
and back, have taken on the more solid look of an original
print, and some radioed pictures, with but an added touch
of the retoucher's brush can scarcely be told from originals.

The first pictures of the Japanese earthquake in Septem-
ber, 1923, had been thrown from a Pacific liner near Seattle
to a waiting plane. An unusual experiment had been plan-
ned to scoop the country at three vital points : Los Angeles,
Chicago and New York. A transparent sheet with tiny
numbered squares was placed over the picture at the sending
end. Sheets of tiny numbered squares were at the receiving
ends. The positions and lines of the photograph were tele-
graphed, as well as the additional data of light and shade to

44 GET THAT PICTURE

help the artist fill in the picture at the receiving end. It was
a long and costly experiment, but the result bore some
resemblance to the original.

The following year the American Telephone and Tele-
graph Company inaugurated a test of its own facsimile
transmitting machine at the Republican Convention in Cleve-
land, and the result was a startling one, although it showed
vertical lines of varying thickness. Three years earlier, the
New York World, also using a facsimile transmission over
a telephonic circuit, had successfully transmitted the picture
of an Indian head from its New York office to the St. Louis
Post Dispatch, but for some reason or other, the experi-
ments were later dropped.

The race in wired pictures was on.

In New York two inventors, Marvin Ferree and Joseph
Wissmar, working for a picture syndicate, invented a pro-
cess called Telepix, and on New Year's Day, 1925, success-
fully sent a picture of the Notre Dame-Leland Stanford
University football game from Los Angeles to New York
and Chicago simultaneously over the Western Union wires.

All the details of the picture were sent over the telegraph
wires in telegraphic dots and dashes of various sizes, repre-
senting all the various tones and shadows of the picture.
The picture was printed photographically on a metal plate
and then placed on the cylinder of the machine. As the
drum revolved, deriving its power from a small electric
motor, a needle traced over its surface recording all the
details of the picture, sending its impulses over a telegraphic
relay to a machine at the receiving end. It was all done
in daylight. When the picture was finished, it was ready
for reproduction. Received on a plain piece of paper, it
could be photographed by a regular copying camera to be
enlarged or reduced. By simply throwing a small switch,
the same machine could either transmit or receive.

GET THAT PICTURE 45

Though Telepix was syndicated to quite a number of
cities, the A. T. and T. continued on with their facsimile
transmission experiments, using a photoelectric cell to trans-
late light and shadows of the picture into sound impulses
over the telephone wires and then reconverted into light
beams. In a test on March 4, 1925, pictures were trans-
mitted from Washington to New York and San Francisco.
The test was a decided improvement over its Republican
Convention experiment the year previous, since the effect
of the vertical striping was eliminated.

The powerful A. T. and T. added cities to its list, open-
ing its commercial service to the public on April 4, 1925.
It charged $50 for a 5 x 7 transmission from New York
to Chicago, $100 from New York to San Francisco. Boston
was added in November of the same year, and later Cleve-
land and Atlanta. Telepix grew for a while, then languish-
ed. Facsimile was winning out over the dot and dash
system.

For eight years the Telephoto, as the A. T. and T.
system was called, remained in existence, and the picture
syndicates made ample use of it. But after sinking $2,000,-
ooo into the venture, they decided to sell it, and the Associ-
ated Press grabbed it in 1934. The AP inaugurated their
service on New Year's Day, 1935, calling it Wirephoto.
But the other major picture syndicates were alive to the
virtues of picture transmission by wire, and so the New
York Times Wide World Photos, International News
Photos and Acme Newspictures inaugurated their own wire
picture services, the Wide World its Wired Photos, the
International its Sound Photos, and Acme its Telephotos.

The principles underlying each system of transmitting
pictures by wire remain practically identical. The surface
of the picture on a revolving drum is scanned methodically
by a beam of light reflected into a photoelectric cell which
in turn produces a current on the wire directly proportional

46 GET THAT PICTURE

to the light reflected from the varying highlights and shad-
ows on the picture. The current is amplified and then sent
over the wire in the form of electric impulses to a receiving
machine in a distant city. A light valve on the receiver
transforms the electric impulses back into light of corre-
sponding intensity, and the process of scanning on an un-
exposed film wrapped around a revolving drum is repeated.
The time for transmitting a picture ranges from eight to
fifteen minutes.

One of the greatest features of the phototelegraphic
equipment now in use is the portability of some of the
machines. One of the portable transmitters, including the
case in which it is carried, weighs as little as sixty pounds,
and a photographer or operator can carry it with the ease
of a suitcase, dashing to the scene of a story by plane, train
or auto, ready to transmit direct from the scene of action.
His equipment will also include a portable developing outfit,
so that he can shoot his pictures, develop, fix and make a
print on the spot, then go to the nearest telephone, make his
proper connections, and then get the long distance operator
to place the call to a receiving point hundreds of miles dis-
tant, the same he would do were he to make an ordinary
long distance call.

For instance, a flash comes into the syndicate office that
a plane has crashed seventy miles from New York, a few
miles from an airport. The photographer with his equip-
ment will dash into a chartered plane and take off for the
scene. He will snap his picture, develop, fix and print from
his negative on the spot, go to the airport, wrap his picture
around the transmitter drum, make his connections on the
airport telephone and then place his call, say, to a paper in
Detroit. While his call is going through, he will make the
necessary dial adjustments, setting his proper range for the
shadows and highlights of the picture. The phone rings,
the Detroit receiving operator is ready, and the picture is

GET THAT PICTURE 47

then started. Within a half hour after he has had started
the picture, a finished print is already in the hands of the
art department for scaling and retouching as any other pic-
ture, and within a half hour after that be in the newspaper
on the street, in the hands of the reader.

The remarkable feature of this marvel of the news
photographic field is this, that the newspaper can go to press
with the news picture at about the same time the story is
being printed. With the development and perfection of
phototelegraphic equipment, the news picture has set a new
high standard of reader interest, and its position on the
newspaper page is as immediate and important as the story
itself. How remarkable it was for New York readers,
several thousand miles from the scene, to see the picture of
the crushed New London, Texas, schoolhouse accompany
the story the very same night of the disaster — to view at
one glance the terrible details of fallen walls and strewn
masonry as only a vivid picture can portray, and more
graphically than the hundreds of words could express. Wire
transmission of pictures is truly making newspaper history !

December, 1924, was another important date in the
history of news photography. The Radio Corporation ot
America opened its New York offices to the public for a
demonstration of a small machine which was able to receive
a picture "hurled" through the ether, across the Atlantic
from its offices in Marconi House in London. In less than
two years, Captain R. H. Ranger, an R. C. A. engineer, had
developed the remarkable piece of apparatus.

Like the machine which transmits photographs by wire,
the photoelectric cell is also employed in the radio device
to scan the photograph as it rotates on a drum or cylinder.
The cell transforms the light waves into electrical impulses
which are transmitted by radio in the same way dots and
dashes are sent through the ether. The radio impulses are
caught by a receiving instrument thousands of miles away,

48 GET THAT PICTURE

and the picture is made up of a series of tiny dots. Where
the picture is light the dots are very thin and far apart,
where there are shadows the dots are darker and closer to-
gether. Like the wire transmission, the picture is received
in a dark room, on an unexposed 8 x 10 film wrapped
around a drum. The only difference between the two
systems is that the radioed picture is a varying of dots in-
stead of lines.

The first spot news picture to be ordered and received
by a syndicate in this country was transmitted from London
to New York on March 5, 1925, and showed the body of
President Ebert of Germany lying in state. It took only
25 minutes for the actual transmission of the picture. Five
days later the original of the same photograph reached
New York on the Aquitania.

Phototelegraphic equipment is now installed in the prin-
cipal cities of Europe, so that it is now possible for any
news story to break anywhere on the Continent, and within
several hours reach a reader on the West Coast of the
United States.

It is possible, at times, on the complete coverage of a
big story to call into action all the facilities known to man
for the speedy delivery of the news picture. Dog team
can speed pictures from the northernmost settlement in
Alaska, the prints placed on a train to a port city, taken
aboard a ship to a point near Seattle, picked up by a sea-
plane, taken to Seattle for a wire transmission to New York,
radioed to London, and then retransmitted to a newspaper
in Vienna.

The scientist, the engineer, the editor, the cameraman,
are today linked in a united, and ever tireless, effort to
speed the news photograph to the reader, so that when he
scans the picture as he reads the accompanying story over
his breakfast table, he can truthfully exclaim : "This picture
age is marvelous!"

Chapter IF.
THE EDITOR SCANS THE PICTURE

Two important functions rest with the picture editor of a
syndicate; the assigning of a photographer to get the
picture and the selection and servicing of the picture
to the member newspapers. On a newspaper, the city
editor will generally assign the photographer whose prints
will be turned over to the picture editor for selection and
rnake-up. In both cases, he is the liaison officer between the
man with the camera and the reader who scans the printed
subject with either amusement or thrill.

Let us begin with the day's duties of a syndicate picture
editor.

The editor on the early morning shift, called the lobster
trick, between midnight and eight a.m., calls the attention
of the day picture editor to several good news stories that
have broken in the early morning hours: a hotel fire at
Lakewood, N. J., in which three guests perished, and the
arrest of a New York bank embezzler at Providence, R. I.
Correspondent-photographers have been phoned to cover
the stories and word should be expected momentarily that
the undeveloped plates are being rushed back by train
porter from Providence, and by bus driver from Lakewood.

The day editor then looks over the day assignment
sheet: three overnight assignments have been handed out
to staff photographers, the arrival of the liner Queen Mary
with an interesting list of notables and also a MUST
on a John R. Massey and his bride, both of Pittsburgh,
which the Pittsburgh member has wired for coverage; the
testing of a new type of airplane at Roosevelt Field, Long

50 GET THAT PICTURE

Island, (a clipping announcing the test of the new plane
had been attached to the dated page several weeks in ad-
vance), and the continuation of the Ross murder trial at
the courthouse in Long Island City, (Mrs. Ross had shot
and killed her husband in their spacious Jamaica home).
The latter story was exciting national interest. There
was plenty of thrill and drama at the trial including sensa-
tional disclosures involving several well-known Long Island
personalities, and only the day previous, the accused wo-
man's mother had been carried out of the courthouse in a
shrieking denunciation of the prosecuting attorney.

It promised a good start for the day's presentation of
the news in pictures.

A boy brings in a huge stack of miscellaneous mail,
envelopes with news and feature pictures from every parr
of the country. Here is a spectacular shot of a grain ele-
vator fire in Milwaukee, (the correspondent had attached
a note that he had duplicated the same picture to the
Chicago office), also six pictures of a golf match at Pine-
hurst, N. C., another showing a mother and father with
their eighteen children ranging in age from six months
to twenty-two years, another showing a wrecked automobile
lying astride a railroad crossing at Wilmington, Delaware,
a head and shoulder shot of a young man who claims to be
the youngest lawyer in Kansas, a picture of a champion
girl archer, another interesting shot of a mother bear and
its cub in the St. Louis Zoo, a negative sent in by a Hunt-
ington Beach, California, contributor showing six bathing
beauties frolicking on the sands. Another correspondent
has forwarded an exclusive shot showing a pretty Spring
meadow scene with snow-capped Mount Rainier in the
background.

The editor scans these with the keen, discriminating
eye of the expert. He knows at first glance which he will
accept and which he will reject.

GET THAT PICTURE 51

The free lance and correspondent-photographer is an
important contributor to the syndicate, and usually hail
from the smaller cities and outlying sections where there
are no staff cameramen.

The editor knows that the Milwaukee fire shot had
been serviced by the Chicago bureau. An early morning
wire had apprised the New York office of the fact. He
will thus service only to New York City members and his
own regional list, to the salesmen and one each for the
London, Paris and Germany offices. Spectacular American
fire scenes always find a market abroad.

He carefully goes through the golf pictures. It is a
North-South match and shows the winner and runner-up
receiving their trophies, also an interesting shot of the
winner on the i8th green. These are the two worth ser-
vicing throughout the East. The rest he places on his
secretary's desk with a note attached that two have been
purchased, and the remainder to be returned.

Then he turns his attention to the parents with their
long list of offspring. Always a human interest feature!
Such large families are an anomaly, (the reader's interest
will center on the farmer, a poor Louisiana farmer, and his
wife) . How they flabbergast us with their defi of economic
facts! It's an immediate purchase.

The wrecked automobile is a rejection. One killed,
several hurt. But automobile accidents are so common-
place, and Wilmington is so far away from the editors at
Boston, Buffalo and other cities. The immediate news in-
terest will have vanished by the time it reaches those
papers. The Boston and Buffalo picture editors will have
their own local accidents to reproduce.

The youngest lawyer has a beguiling smile, a nice set of
teeth and broad pair of shoulders. But the editor rejects
it without a twitch of conscience. Poor fellow, he's going
back to Kansas. There's no feature value in a legal Adonis

52 GET THAT PICTURE

even if he is the youngest. The correspondent had better
wait for an attractive Portia. The readers and the editors
always like the good-looking girl as a page adornment.
Somehow it smooths the blunt edges of columns of murder
and fire stories.

The champion girl archer is a profile shot, the print quite
flat. The original negative must have been underexposed.
There's a possibility it may have been accepted had it all
the perfect tone qualities of a good photograph. Too poor
for reproduction. Into the rejection file it goes.

The mother bear and cub is an immediate acceptance.
An interesting animal picture with perfect tone quality is a
sure-fire sale. Animals, children and pretty girls head the
list for feature picture interest. The bathing beauties on
the beach find a purchaser for the same reason.

The landscape is bought as a special rotogravure picture
to be one of ten to twelve exclusive pictures to be serviced
that week as a roto page layout bearing an advance re-
lease date. Generally editors of rotogravure supplements
need from a week to ten days to prepare their Sunday layout.

The morning papers are carefully searched for any
picture possibilities and the stories are clipped for reference
as a guide for the editor, the photographer and the caption
writer. On page three he finds a story of a penthouse
dweller atop a midtown skyscraper who is raising cabbages
as big as bowling balls. Good I A photographer is imme-
diately sent to the address. The sports page contributes
two items for coverage : Paddy White, the aspirant for the
lightweight crown, is training at Stillwell's gymnasium, and
the Columbia crew is going out for a practice spin on the
Hudson at five o'clock. Two more jobs for the camera-
men. A three-year-old musical prodigy has been discovered
on the East Side and another photographer heads for the
nearest subway.

In the meanwhile the wires are clicking off the news

GET THAT PICTURE 53

from far and wide. Violence is growing in the Pawtucket,
Rhode Island, textile strike; a beautiful 1 8-year-old girl
has been found slain at Wheeling, West Virginia; a well-
known movie actress has been threatened with blackmail;
forest fires are raging throughout Washington and Oregon;
another duststorm sweeps the Texas Panhandle; a con-
ference of Governors on the relief problem is taking place
at the various points to expedite good material to the near-
est bureaus; the Washington manager is reminded to rush
prints of the conference to the members in those states
whose Governors are represented; the Boston manager is
told to send a staff cameraman to Pawtucket by the first
train and duplicate his negatives to Boston and New York.

The cables report an attempted assassination of the
Japanese Premier and a British warship is on its way to
the Mediterranean in another international crisis. Good
page one stories ! Pictures of the Premier and the warship
are taken from the files and serviced.

On stories of first magnitude, the quality of the print
for copying and servicing need be only fair as faded lines
and spots will be strengthened and the dark spaces lightened
and grayed by the expert hands of the retoucher before it
is handed over to the engraver.

If there is no picture of the warship in the files, the
editor will search Jane's Fighting Ships, a yearbook filled
with reproductions of warships of every nation. The pic-
ture of the Japanese Premier will undoubtedly be in the
files as special attention is always paid to building up the
files with the leading officials of every nation. It is very
rare indeed when a syndicate does not have a good recent
study of the President, Premier or ruler of the leading
nations. Pictures of prominent men and women in all sta-
tions of life from the world over are sought for continu-
ously as good file material to have available when a story
breaks. Newspapers, as well, are paying more and more

54 GET THAT PICTURE

attention to their picture files, and personalities, especially
those in the limelight, are never discarded. There is al-
ways the obituary page to illustrate on the announcement
of death.

At the moment the picture of the warship is being copied
for servicing, the negatives of the hotel fire arrive. They
are immediately turned over to a printer for developing.
The editor selects the best one or two shots for servicing
while they are still washing. The first selection shows a
well exposed general view of the fire at its height, another
shows one of the injured being treated on the spot. Among
the discarded ones is a picture of one of the victims, badly
burned, being carried out. It's too gruesome. Pictures of
dead persons with very few exceptions are taboo with most
newspaper publishers. It is the exception and not the rule
when pictures such as those of Dillinger and Dutch Schultz,
America's public enemies, in death are exposed to the
reader. It is a standing rule with many prominent news-
papers that no pictures of any dead person, no matter what
the story or circumstance may be can be published.

Within fifteen minutes after the arrival of the negatives
in the office, prints of the fire are on their way to the local
evening newspapers, and by train porter to the New Eng-
land, New York State, New Jersey and Pennsylvania mem-
bers to meet afternoon or early evening editions.

The servicing of every picture requires good judgment
of news and feature values; the news sense of the editor
must encompass the required needs of the subscribers from
coast to coast, as well as those in foreign countries. The
interest may contract beyond a certain unmarked boundary;
there may still be an interest alive in Chicago while beyond
that the editor may pay scant, or even no interest, in the
story such as the New Jersey fire. There are all kinds of
imponderables in stories and pictures marked as news.
Where the wire can tick off a few descriptive phrases with-

GET THAT PICTURE 55

out much loss of time and money, the picture syndicates can
hardly afford to service non-interested subscribers with costly
prints.

The syndicate picture editor must therefore weigh his
servicing carefully before he turns his order over to the
printer. Is it a small or large hotel? Are there prominent
names involved? Will the death toll increase? Reader
and editor interest grows proportionately to the damage
and toll of life. A three-stick story on page four will be
swung to a full column on page one when the death toll in
a hotel disaster will rise from two or three to ten or more.
The picture editor will scan the latest news developments
carefully before he puts his final OK on the order sheet.

Again he must study his picture solely on the merits of
reader attention. Even if there were no loss of lives, the
picture may be an unusual one, such as the Milwaukee grain
elevator fire shot received earlier. If it only shows a few
wreaths of smoke, he will most certainly limit its service.
If there are flames shooting through the windows with
plenty of smoke showing the picture effect will be enhanced,
and the service will be increased. If the shot had been made
after the fire is extinguished, the gutted ruins of partially
remaining walls will have told the story in almost as graphic
terms as the fire itself, and the picture will be given as much
attention. In other words, the picture must always convey
the full impression of the details and significance of the
story.

The human interest element must always be considered,
too. In catastrophes as floods and fires the fate of the vic-
tims have a stronger appeal to the emotions of the reader
than the extent of the disaster. The devastating 1937 Ohio
River floods bore out that fact. Flood waters sweeping up
to the roofs of homes revealed the magnitude of the
catastrophe, but the most stirring pictures taken were not
those of the waters but of the refugees and the heroic men

56 GET THAT PICTURE

and women who fought to prevent further toll of life.
Photographs of a mother, worn from exhaustion, nursing
her baby in a refugee camp, a boy with^his dog and few
possessions he managed to save from his submerged home
shown in the background, a lineup of weary, haggard, dis-
heveled refugees outside a tent awaiting their handout of
food, and a string of convicts on a levee helping in the battle
for life, were the pictorial masterpieces that stirred the
world. They told the story as no thousands of words could
have impressed.

When the picture of the bank embezzler under arrest
at Providence arrived, there was not much time wasted to
judge picture or service value. One picture told the story;
the shot of the embezzler flanked by detectives arriving at
the court-house sufficed. A distribution to members from
Maine to Pennsylvania wrote finis to that news story.

The ship news photographer who covered the arrival of
the liner Queen Mary brings in several large envelopes
packed tightly with the cream of Europe's news and feature
offerings of the past week. The editor searches keenly for
the spot news which takes immediate precedence : there is
the wreckage of an Imperial Airways plane which crashed
near Paris, killing eight passengers; the thrilling rescue of
a foundering steamer's crew and passengers in the North
Sea, and Paris riot scenes showing a street battle between
the Rightists and Leftists in the heart of the French capital.
Those involving personalities are then selected: Mussolini
with his arm raised in Roman salute and chin thrust for-
ward in familiar angle, greeting a Fascist assemblage; Hitler
reviewing a battalion of troops ; Stalin attending the funeral
of a confrere in Moscow; Foreign Minister Anthony Eden
of England leaving 10 Downing Street after an important
conference with the Prime Minister, and Premier Blum of
France being interviewed by reporters after another Cabinet
crisis.

FELLED BY AN ASSASSIN'S BULLET

With blood from his wound seeping- through the white of his shirt, Mayor
Anton J. Cermak of Chicago is assisted to a car to be rushed to a hospital
in Miami, Fla., the night of February 15, 1933. The Mayor was struck by
one of five bullets fired by Guiseppe Zangara in the direction of President
Roosevelt, and later died in the hospital Zangara was put to death.

£) Wide World Photos

THE ASSASSINATION OF A MONARCH

This picture was snapped an instant after Petrus Kalemen had fired a deadly
hail of lead into the bodies of King Alexander of Jugloslavia and Foreign
Minister Louis Bartheu of France, at Marseilles, France, in October, 1934.
Colonel Piollet is striking the assassin with his sabre while police, soldiers
and citizens rush to seize the assassin. He was slain by the mob.

Pictures, Inc.

STRIKE MARCH TURNED INTO BLOODY BATTLEGROUND
Police hammering- strike demonstrators into submission when they dispersed
a crowd marching- on an open field near the Republic Steel Corporation plant
at South Chicago, May 30, 1937. Eleven strike sympathizers were killed.
This and other pictures taken by news cameramen were studied by members
of the Senate Civil Liberties Committee in effort to fix responsibility for

the killings.

Ford Company special policemen piling- into CIO organizer Richard T.
Frankensteen on the bridg-e near the Ford plant at Dearborn, Michigan,
May 26, 1937, following- an attempt of the United Auto Workers Union to
distribute leaflets to the workers leaving- the plant. Frankensteen was
brutally beaten. The news photographers were the next target; many had
their cameras, plates and holders broken, and others forced to flee beyond

the city limits.

GET THAT PICTURE 57

There are six duplicate sets of these outstanding photo-
graphs. One set is immediately copied for servicing, an-
other given to the mat editor for his page of pictures, an-
other set is rushed by motorcycle boy to Newark Airport
to be sent by plane to the Chicago bureau for western distri-
bution, and the remaining sets are given to salesmen to sell
to the newspapers for either daily or Sunday rotogravure
use.

Competition in foreign coverage is keen. There are few
stories breaking in European countries that are not covered
by the news photographer. The number of picture syndi-
cates, especially in England, far outnumber those in this
country. It is a continual race to make the first and fastest
liner back to America, and the pursers are swamped with the
bulging envelopes entrusted to them for delivery to an ac-
credited representative of the American syndicate.

Scattered among these spot news pictures are a mis-
cellany of interesting photographs, scenes and personalities
from many lands : an English peer and his bride leaving an
historic London church, a iO5-year-old Scotch woman smok-
ing her pipe, a Hollywood beauty kissing the Blarney Stone,
a Normandy festival, an American Congressman and his
wife vacationing in the French Riviera, a new type of motor-
boat spinning along on the waters of the Thames — about
ten of these are laid aside for servicing as soon as the spot
news pictures will have been copied, printed and distributed.
In a few days they will have made their appearance in the
large dailies, a week or two later in many of the nation's
seventy Sunday rotogravure supplements.

From the fjords of Norway to the burning sands of the
Sahara the tiny eye of the camera is trained on the Old
World, and the ways of prince and peasant, premier and
dictator become familiar symbols to the American reader.
However, all pictures are not made available. The censor
in many countries determines what should be published; the

58 GET THAT PICTURE

official distributor is a government agency prepared to keep
from the public anything they deem detrimental to their own
interests. The news becomes the propaganda, but the pic-
ture syndicate has no choice other than to accept the gov-
ernment's handout and give it world distribution. The
reader is left to decide what is real news and what is
propaganda.

From these photographs gathered from all parts of the
Old World, the readers Jin America are daily presented with
the shifting scenes and personalities; the European setting
is no strange and mysterious other world whose characters
are delineated by the imagination. We can almost see
Stalin and Hitler and Mussolini in the flesh as the camera
reveals their grimaces and characterizations. We can see
the Spanish soldier and the Russian worker, the London
shopkeeper and the French peasant. Before our eyes, on
the printed page, they pass in daily review.

The ship news negatives are placed on the editor's desk.
Only those of national figure are syndicated: the American
Ambassador to the court of St. James returning for a brief
holiday, and a motion picture actress whose name is known
from coast to coast. The others are placed in the files,
properly identified. One never knows when their names
will spring suddenly into prominence.

Into the hands of the editor numerous clippings of local
events are placed by an assistant, tips on others breaking
at the moment are relayed by the city editor, but the syndi-
cate editor, unlike the picture editor of a metropolitan news-
paper, pays little attention to these. The blowing up of a
manhole on Eighth Avenue or a little known recluse found
slain among his rags in a Houston Street basement excites
no reaction. The story must be of national sweep, or at
least of a regional interest.

The stories sweeping in on wires from all parts of the
country go through a more intense sifting in the hands of

GET THAT PICTURE 59

the editor. Looking through the thousands of words he
knows at a glance what the newspaper editor will want. For
a coverage of these stories he selects his best correspondent-
photographers from a long list on file and despatches wires
instructing them to send the outstanding shots, either by
mail or airmail or airexpress to the nearest bureau point and
duplicate to New York. The editor has always at hand the
name of the correspondent to whom he can turn in any
emergency. The able, active correspondents are paid well
and promptly. Their telephone numbers are listed in a well
kept file in event an outstanding story breaks in the vicinity
of their homes.

The picture editor must also have available the names
of persons and companies to whom he can turn when a story
breaks: publicity men connected with the hotel, stage and
screen, large corporations, steamship lines and railroad
companies, automobile hiring concerns, police officials, air-
port officials, and press representatives of schools and col-
leges. The names, addresses and telephone numbers of
capable plane pilots are always listed. A sudden story may
demand their immediate services.

In his drawer must always lie airmail and railroad guides
and road maps, and close at hand Ayer's Annual, which is
a complete listing of newspapers and editors, and an atlas
to check places and distances for the guidance of staff
photographers and correspondents on story coverage.

At every moment of the day he must be constantly aware
of members' deadlines and what planes should be made with
airexpress packages to reach the members in time for their
editions; the time is figured from the moment the negative
arrives till it is printed and captioned, and not a second is
wasted up till the time a dust-sprayed motorcyclist dashes
up to a plane on a Newark runway ready for a scheduled
flight and hands the package of pictures to the pilot.

More packages arrive : airexpressed envelopes with pic-

60 GET THAT PICTURE

tures from San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago and Cleve-
land. Prints are assorted for local distribution. Others
are copied for European sales.

Another photographer is assigned to a fashion show
(good fashion pictures are always in demand by the mem-
bers), and another is rushed to a Coney Island fire (the
famous New York resort is known the world over and any
considerable damage there is of international news interest).

It is a day of continual selection of photographs, servic-
ing, close watching of distribution, keen awareness of news
copy for picture coverage. The picture syndicate editor
rarely has an idle moment. When he has it is generally ap-
plied to planning a picture layout which he hopes will be
exclusive.

He works amid a sea of constant action : caption writers
bent over their typewriters striving to keep up with the pace
of the ordering; photographers hurrying to and from their
assignments; printers exposing print after print to be rushed
through developing pans and water tanks, boys ferrotyping
and captioning, mail clerks distributing, motorcyclists in and
out with their packages. It is a whirlwind of activity, tense,
thrilling.

Picture syndicates will turn out an average of 25,000 to
30,000 prints weekly, and each print must stand up under
the test of news and feature value and quality of tone and
composition.

It is the picture keeping a steady, grinding pace with the
news.

Where the syndicate picture editor will evaluate pictures
for the perusal of hundreds of editors who will select from
the mass those that meet his particular needs, the picture
editor of a daily newspaper must subject the pictures that
pass through his hands to a more rigid survey. The photo-
graph that he approves will be the one to be printed.

The syndicate editor thinks in terms of mass production,

GET THAT PICTURE 6 1

the newspaper editor concentrates on the single shot; the
syndicate editor thinks of distances and train and airmail
schedules, the picture editor of the daily is absorbed with the
deadline and edition and makeup.

The policies of the newspaper picture editors vary, strik-
ing a very close line to the needs and policies of the pub-
lishers. One conservative newspaper may scatter only a
half dozen photographs through its pages, a tabloid picture
paper will adhere to a daily program of four or five full
pages of pictures with illustrations with story on every other
page.

In former days before the paper had its own staff of
photographers, its own photoengraving plant and paid no
attention to picture syndicates, it was the fashion to "dress
up" the one or two pictures used, generally selected by the
managing editor, with decorations of scrolls, arabesques
and rosettes. The fancy art decoration redeemed the poor
reproduction.

With the introduction of improved engraving processes
and the use of more and better news and feature photo-
graphs continually pouring in from syndicate and staff
photographer, the picture editor was hired solely to concen-
trate on the intelligent handling and selection of photo-
graphs, and give them artistic as well as news meaning. The
picture has become as important in matter of content and
display as the news story, the caption head as striking and
original as the news headline.

A big story breaks. The picture editor of the daily
turns to his own file for a stock cut or photograph to illus-
trate it with personality or scene. If the story occurs with-
in the vicinity of the newspaper office, the staff photographer
will be rushed to bring back the earliest possible shot in
order to make the succeeding edition. A far away story
will throw the editor's dependence on the syndicate to rush
it along in the fastest possible way by either train or plane,

62 GET THAT PICTURE

or more recently, the transmission of the picture over the
telephone wire.

A close contact always exists between the picture editor
and the desks of the city and managing editors. There are
illustrative possibilities in most stories. The city editor will
see to it that a photographer accompanies the reporter, the
managing editor will press the use of a picture for an out-
standing page-one story, and space for the use of the illus-
tration will be alloted accordingly in the makeup of the
pages.

With the daily newspaper, the local story becomes as
important for illustration as the seemingly more vital news
from far away places. The reader is as much interested,
sometimes more so, in seeing the picture of an automobile
crash in his own city, though there may have been only a
few injured, as in the crash of a car in which many were
killed hundreds of miles distant. The picture of a waif
lost in the subway, a foundling in a local hospital, the lay-
ing of a cornerstone of a local edifice, the addition of new
paintings for the city museum, the Mayor honoring fire de-
partment heroes — all these events of immediate interest to
the reader assume an all-important position in the schedul-
ing of pictures for the daily. Such pictures, at times, con-
stitute a majority of the pictures used. Only the most strik-
ing of the news and feature shots furnished by the syndicate
will make up the remainder.

On some newspapers, the editors of the sports, society
and financial departments will suggest and plan the use of
pictures for their respective pages. On others, the picture
editor will assume the prerogatives of all departments.

The use of the one-column personality picture is wide-
spread. It helps relieve the monotone of the page of words.
As a result, the newspaper sees to it that a good personality
file is built up and well preserved.

Seldom does the paper go beyond the two and three

GET THAT PICTURE 63

column cut except when the value of the news or the com-
position of the picture demands it. A large group of persons
at an important function cannot be very comfortably com-
pressed into a two or three column picture; the general view
of a golf match or a shot of five horses in a thrilling finish
will be justifiably "blown up" into a four or five column
cut.

Each picture must be weighed carefully for content,
quality and composition. The foreign picture must have a
background suggestion of locale especially when it is a per-
sonality shot, the big news story must convey in a flash the
story itself; the pathos, tragedy or humor of a story must
leave an immediate, indelible impression. The picture must
breathe life, action, vitality, it must be animated to make
it outstanding. The value of a photograph of a dust storm
is enhanced when a person with handkerchief to face is
caught within the range of the camera, the effect of a fire is
intensified when firemen are shown battling the blaze or
hurrying up ladders to rescue trapped victims. The shot
of a counterfeiting outfit reveals a better story when a gov-
ernment operative is shown examining the cache.

Every hour brings to the daily picture editor a fresh
supply of photographs : syndicate offerings and those turned
in by the staff photographers. There may be four or five
editions to make, and the editor tries to give each edition a
fresh makeup with the new photographs displacing or sup-
plementing the earlier shots used.

The picture quality is carefully considered. There
should be plenty of sharply defined detail and should have
all the middle tones between black and white for a perfect
half tone engraving. No matter how good the subject may
be, it may not be used if it is either too flat or too contrasty.

The editor must study his picture carefully before writ-
ing his caption. On the picture tabloids this task is en-
trusted to a special caption writer. Generally a three or

64 GET THAT PICTURE

four line text is written, but it must be brief and concise,
containing all the essential facts. The top line or head
must be vigorous, and have the "punch". Names of persons
and places must be carefully gone over, and the text must
be carefully checked against the news story. With feature
pictures, original, vigorous captions help enliven the illustra-
tions and captivate the readers.

The picture editor must make every picture worth the
space it occupies.

The job of the picture editor of an illustrated tabloid
like the New York Daily News is a very important and
interesting one. Throughout the day, before the presses
start rolling off the more than a million and a half papers,
the editor is continually busy with selection and makeup.
He sees a daily average of 400 pictures, including about a
hundred local shots taken by the staff of 25 photographers.

Dozens of photographs must be selected for the double
truck (the inside two page spread), the extra page, and the
front and back pages, besides the numerous illustrations with
story scattered throughout the paper. His deadline for the
pink or first edition is an hour earlier than the written mate-
rial. The extra page is ready about three p.m., the double
truck is all set at four o'clock, the back page at five and the
front page at five-thirty.

After a page is laid out on a dummy, the exact size as
the form in the composing room, the spaces are numbered
as well as the size of the eventual cuts. The photographs
with the dummy are handed to the caption writer who scans
the pictures for caption suggestions and then hands them
back to the art department. After they are scaled and re-
touched and the subject of the picture written on the back,
the pictures are sent to the engraving department. An
original listing of pictures is sent along with them, a dupli-
cate is kept in the art department on a loose leaf book as a

GET THAT PICTURE 65

record of the size and number of the pictures to be pub-
lished. The dummy is checked against that record.

The copy desk of the news department which has al-
ready been notified that pictures will accompany a story,
receives the captions to be sure that they jibe with the story.
The captions for the full pages occupy a space of about
three square inches. The art of condensation reaches its
highest form on the paper like the News. Not a single
word is wasted.

Within thirty minutes after the photograph arrives in
the engraving room a cut is ready for the printer at work in
the composing room who also gets his caption type and puts
it in the assigned space. If it is too long, the caption is cut
and reset. One printer is assigned to each picture page.
Before the cuts arrive he will have built up the spaces for
them with blocks of various sizes. The form is locked up
and the cuts are then laid on. From the composing room,
the form is rolled on a movable table or chase to the stereo-
typing room where the mats and castings are made. Shortly
thereafter the giant rotary presses start rolling off the
printed pages.

Although the last edition goes to press at three in the
morning there are numerous occasions when the paper is
replated at a much later hour, up till about six o'clock, in
order to publish a picture on a sensational news story.

The tabloid picture editor will continually vary makeup
in order to give each new edition a fresh appearance. The
square or rectangular picture, with its even, set appearance
is mortised (the lines of the square or rectangle are indent-
ed), and the layout of the page assumes a striking blend of
artistic composition, appealing to the eye.

The cream of the news photographic world is at the dis-
posal of the daily newspapers. Picture agencies offer them
the best of their material either by subscription to the serv-
ice or outright purchase of the individual picture offered by

66 GET THAT PICTURE

the agency salesman; freelance photographers in and around
the city submit the products of their cameras, the alert staff
photographers are on top of every local story. The news-
papers today never suffer a dearth of picture material.

Whether it be on the News, the picture paper with the
country's largest circulation, or on the smallest daily using
the picture mats, the function of the picture editor is primar-
ily the same. He must judge the picture with a keen ap-
preciative eye of the artist and reporter; he must entertain
and instruct his readers; he must learn to discriminate be-
tween the interesting and the prosaic, the objectionable and
the pleasing. He must never override his readers' good
taste.

The picture editor is a strong link in the journalistic
chain. The circulation builders can well afford ever to
strengthen that link. The readers are taking a great fancy
to his work these days.

Chapter F.

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS
CAMERAMAN

With a courage born of nerve, sheer audacity and a
tenacity of will, the modern newspaper photographer has
added a vivid chapter of romance and adventure to the
annals of journalism. Spurred by the battle-cry: "Get the
picture!" he has stormed the heights with his little black
box, captured his objective and returned to his ranks with
the picture safely in tow. He is the true soldier of Peace !

The news cameraman is always ready in a flash to meet
any emergency; without qualm or fear, he is prepared to go
through fire and water at the word: uGo !" He scales
dizzy heights of buildings to get the unusual angle, he treads
narrow girders on unfinished bridges to get the shot of the
men at work; through fire and hurricane and flood he
dashes unhesitatingly to snap every view of a disaster. The
only anxiety that besets him is : "Did my pictures scoop the
town? Did my plates arrive at the office ok?"

At the end of a big story that has carried him far afield,
he will return to the office, rummage through the huge stack
of negatives he has sent back, and find one lone shot that
will be slightly out of focus. It's enough to spoil his appetite
for days. Disregarding slaps on his back from the editor
acclaiming his great work, he will naively murmer: "Gee,
wonder what the deuce caused this."

He just cannot grasp the fact that even the world's best
cameraman can once in a while get a slightly out of focus
picture. The big, robust, daring cameraman can be so de-
lightfully child-like at times, the schoolboy who is irked
because he didn't get 100 instead of 99 on his test paper.

68 GET THAT PICTURE

The cameraman thrives on the thrill of a big story. Like
a true member of the Fourth Estate, he will dash in and
out of taxis, planes, trains and ships, bang his toes, bump
his head, tear his clothes, and miss his meals, only to be sure
that he gets every shot and angle of the story he's covering.
He strives for nothing but the best results, and he will sink
into an easy chair the following morning with a singing
heart and a boyish grin as he holds the paper at arm's
length, and beholds his picture, a five column "beauty" on
the front page. Oh, boy, it was worth everything to get just
that!

Whether a story breaks in the frozen wastes of the
Arctic or the miasmic jungles of the Amazon, the photogra-
pher gets his picture. It may take an hour or it may take
days to trek to the scene, but he finally gets his picture, and
there is no turning back till he does.

There is the story of the three transatlantic fliers, Cap-
tain Herman Koehl, Baron Ehrenfried von Huenefeld and
Captain James Fitzmaurice, who were stranded on the
bleak Greenly Island off the coast of Labrador when their
plane crashed into the ice and snow.

Newspapers and syndicates had despatched cameramen
in planes to Murray Bay, Canada, on the first lap of a
projected flight to reach the men and get the first pictures.

Between the men, heavily clad against the cold of the
dying days of Winter, and the three intrepid fliers hemmed
in on their Labrador island, lay a thousand mile stretch of
bleak Canadian country, constantly swept by fierce blizzards.
Cameramen and reporters from the country over had con-
verged toward Murray Bay as the last hopping off point for
Greenly Island.

The editors at their office desks were frantically phoning
and wiring. "Try at all costs to get through!" was the
tenor of their commands. But the hardiest fliers demurred.
It would be suicide to try to buck those blizzard winds. The

GET THAT PICTURE 69

planes remained on the ice poised for flight but could not
get off. Fuel was being constantly brought in by dog sled
from Quebec to keep the motors warmed up in case of a
break in the weather.

Finally it remained for Captain Edward Jackson of the
New York Daily News, a veteran news cameraman who
had seen service in the World War and accompanied Presi-
dent Wilson to Versailles for the Peace Conference, to make
the "suicidal" attempt. His comrades of the typewriter and
camera were startled. He'll never get through ! While his
editors at the office held their breaths, fearful of a sudden
flash from the Canadian wilds that he had cracked up,
Jackson kept on going till his plane nosed down on the
snows of Greenly Island. He found the fliers being com-
fortably taken care of by the lighthouse keeper of the island.

His first shots of the stranded fliers, sent back to New
York by a relay of planes, thrilled the News' million read-
ers. And millions more enjoyed the sight of the remarkable
shots when the News' syndicate, the Pacific and Atlantic
Photos, gave them world distribution.

Any moment of the day or night, winter or summer,
may suddenly rouse men on the desk or in the darkroom to
startling action. The wires may be ticking off a common-
place story from Kenosha, Wisconsin, or Bombay, India,
when suddenly the little bell rings, and the operator excited-
ly bends over to get the first words of a tremendous story
breaking.

It was toward the late afternoon of a hot July day in
1921. Editors were poring over routine copy, and the day
photographers back from mediocre assignments were lolling
in the darkrooms waiting for their plates to develop, when
the electrifying flash came over the wires : uThe Navy muni-
tions plant at Lake Denmark, New Jersey, has exploded."

Within a few minutes, hired cabs and autos were rushing
newspaper and syndicate photographers to the scene; the

7© GET THAT PICTURE

early darkness found them piling out at Dover, the nearest
town. The sky was alight with the flames from the burning
buildings and the air was being split with the explosions of
thousands of shells. They could not get too close to the
scene. Armed guards turned them back from the roads
leading to the blazing inferno.

But pictures have to be taken ! There are deadlines and
editions back in the city, so while they chafe under the
guards' strict orders not to proceed further, the photogra-
phers turn to make pictures of the injured and wounded at
the hospital in Dover, the sentinels on duty, the alarmed
towns-people watching the fire from the nearest vantage
points.

Without being told, the news cameraman instinctively
knows that if he can't get the best shot possible, whether it's
forbidden or circumstances keep the picture out of reach of
his lens, he will get the next best shot so long as it will
furnish illustration for the story.

However, the restrictions did not keep several New
York editors from entering the grounds. Caveo Sileo, as-
signment editor with the International News Photos, had
been home when the news of the explosion was phoned to
him from the office. Overhearing the phone conversation,
Mrs. Sileo realized there was danger and determined to
accompany her husband.

When they reached Dover by auto they were barred
from the reservation. After entering an unused entrance
they climbed over high fences and jumped to the inside of
the grounds. It was a veritable uNo Man's Land" with
bullets whizzing by and shells bursting in air. For more
than two hours, while they crouched beside trees, Sileo, who
had taken his camera, kept shooting away with his plates.
They then headed back to their car and shot toward Dover
where Sileo made more pictures of the injured in the hos-
pitals before returning to New York.

GET THAT PICTURE 71

It is a rare occasion when the managing editor of a news-
paper will accompany a photographer to the scene of a story,
but on this one, Frank Hause, then managing editor of the
New York Daily News, hopped from his desk and rushed
by car to Dover, accompanied by a cameraman.

From a shaky observation tower, Hause, with the skill
of an officer in battle, directed the work of the photogra-
pher, and both stuck through the blazing inferno till they
had secured a complete pictorial record.

The following day, Mack Baron, International's flying
photographer, flew over the scene of destruction. In utter
disregard of exploding shells, shrapnel and jagged pieces
of metal, Baron passed the word along to the pilot to dip
low. Skimming through the air but a few hundred feet
above the ground, Baron snapped some remarkable closeups
and did not turn back for Roosevelt Field until he had ex-
hausted his magazine. Upon landing the pilot called
Baron's attention to jagged tears in the wings.

Carl Nesensohn, a veteran news photographer who has
been with the New York Times Wide World Photos since
its inception, was in Brooklyn on his way home one July day
in 1916 when the sound of a terrific explosion followed by a
burst of fire stopped him in his tracks.

It was the famous Black Tom explosion and fire on the
Jersey City docks which killed two persons and caused a
property loss of $22,000,000.

Across the bay, on the Jersey shore, Carl saw flames
shooting skyward. He rushed back to the office, loaded his
holders and headed for the Battery. After much pleading
and payment of a small sum, he induced the owner of a
small craft, hardly much larger than a row boat, to take him
across.

While they were nearing the Jersey shore, burning
barges, some loaded with exploding munitions, swept by,
perilously close. They finally maneuvered the boat along-

72 GET THAT PICTURE

side a dock at a fairly safe distance from the fire. Carl
told the skipper to wait for him until after he had made a
few shots. But when he returned he found the boat gone.
The wind was sweeping the fire closer and soon the shore
end of the dock was ablaze. Fortunately, a New York City
fire boat hove into view and took him aboard. From the
ship he was able to take more views. Not satisfied with
these, he begged permission to be let ashore for a few
minutes, and he managed to get some remarkable closeups,
not without, however, getting the soles of his shoes burned
and his suit riddled with red hot cinders.

It was one of Nesensohn's many exciting adventures in
the news game.

In 1935 he was assigned to cover the passenger liner
Morro Castle which still aflame from stem to stern had
drifted onto the beach at Asbury Park, N. J. The boat
while bound from Havana to New York had caught fire off
Asbury Park and 134 passengers and members of the crew
perished.

After the smoke and flames had died down on one end
of the ship, Nesensohn secured the permission of the Coast
Guard to be swung aboard the ship in a breeches bouy. He
was the first photographer to set foot on the burning ship.

The steel plates of the deck were still fiery hot but he
kept on, shooting his pictures. In many places the plates
had buckled into wave-like formations and Carl had to slide
up and down before finally reaching the burned out staircase
leading to the upper decks.

Jagged pieces of metal and splinters of charred wood
ripped his clothing. The hot steel was like a volcano under
his feet. He kept constantly to the windward side lest the
flames and smoke from the other side of the ship billow back
into his face. He finally managed to reach three decks of
the ship maneuvering the camera in all directions to get the

Tired, dispirited, her f?ce drawn from anguish and worry, Mrs. Mary Mooney,
of Luxora, Arkansas, huddles her two children close to her on cots provided
for them in a concentration camp at Memphis, Tenn. They were fed and
housed along- with thousands of others who were forced to flee their homes
during1 the disastrous Ohio and Mississippi Rivers flood in January, 1937.

FOUND IN THE SCHOOL RUINS

One of the few survivors of the New London, Texas, Consolidated School
disaster looks for her books amid the strewn mass. The school was com-
pletely wrecked by a gas explosion, killing nearly 500 students and teachers,

on March 18, 1937.

THE PRINCE IS HEADING FOR A FALL

The Duke of Windsor, when he was Prince ftf Wales, was the victim of a
series of spills before he gave up horse-racing. The ubiquitous cameraman
clicked his camera the instant the former King- was thrown from his
saddle while riding in a Welsh Guards Challenge Cup race in England. In
another instant, the royal equestrian was rolling in the muddy turf, but was

uninjured.

Pictures, Inc.
HIS LAST FIGHT

One of the most dramatic fight pictures ever taken is this one showing Ernie
Schaaf, Boston heavyweight, at the instant he went crashing to the floor
after Primo Camera, Italian giant, had landed a straight left to his face in
the 13th round of their fight at Madison Square Garden, New York City, night
of February 10, 1933. Schaaf lay unconscious for an hour and was then
removed t'o the Polyclinic Hospital where he died four days later following

GET THAT PICTURE 73

best angles. He obtained the first shots of the burned out
interior of the vessel.

With his clothing burned, ripped and torn, his shoes
almost burned through and his face coal black from the soot
and smoke, he finally managed to reach shore and return
to his hotel to pack the negatives for speedy shipment back
to New York.

Later another news photographer went aboard the ship
but forgot to keep to the windward side. He was overcome
by the smoke and heat of the nearby flames, and fell face
down on the hot deck. Fortunately he was spotted by an-
other cameraman and carried off, painfully burned.

For these heroes of the lens, it was just another day's
assignment.

Every job has its potential thrills and dangers, but the
daring bearer of the camera faces all without the batting
of an eyelash.

When word came that the situation in Cuba was be-
coming more serious, that the regime of President Machado
was about to fall, mobs were attacking and being attacked
by gun fire, Seymour Ress, Associated Press cameraman,
was immediately flown from New York to Miami and then
over to Havana in the first outgoing Pan American Airways
plane.

He had made some remarkable shots of the soldiers
with machine guns and rifles in action, crowds scurrying to
safety, a newspaper plant afire, and was on his way to the
Pan American Airways office in Havana to put his plates
aboard a plane when he was attacked by a mob at the
entrance to the airfield. They forced him back into his
automobile at the point of guns, smashed his camera and
some of his plates, and he was released only after some of
the cooler heads had intervened.

When Ress had seen the mob coming, he had the trigger-
quick sense, with which so many of the news photographers

74 GET THAT PICTURE

are blessed, to conceal some of the plates on his person.
After he was freed, he immediately inquired about charter-
ing a plane to fly to Miami but sorrowfully learned that
President Machado had taken the only plane available to
fly to Nassau, the Bahamas, in a dash to safety. He
advised his New York office of his plight, and they at once
ordered a plane from Miami to fly to Havana to pick up
his plates.

On another occasion, his quick thinking enabled Ress
to secure an exclusive picture for his syndicate.

After the announcement of the appointment of William
Woodin as Secretary of the Treasury in President Roose-
velt's cabinet had come over the wires, Ress was assigned to
get a new picture of the appointee. The night editor had
phoned Woodin's home in advance, but the butler had an-
nounced that he had gone to the home of a friend for dinner.
Ress was hurried there, but on arriving was barred from
entering. The butler's laconic : "Sorry, sir, but Mr. Woodin
will not want to be interviewed or photographed" threaten-
ed no pictures. Undismayed, Ress hung about the house
entrance for a while, pleading with the butler several times
to allow him in, but it fell on deaf ears. The butler had his
orders. Finally, an idea struck Ress. On the back of a
card, he scribbled: "Mr. Woodin, please allow just one
photograph. The office insists that I get a picture and I
do not want to return until I do." The butler was per-
suaded to bring the card to Mr. Woodin. It worked. Ress
was allowed to enter and he made several poses. The ex-
clusive pictures were rushed back to the office and shortly
thereafter they were being syndicated to all parts of the
country.

It proved that there are no such words as "it can't be
done" in the vocabulary of the news photographer.

The cameraman must at all times keep a cool head,
think fast and keep both feet to the ground. There is no

GET THAT PICTURE 75

wavering or retreating. He must keep on firing away with
his camera as though he was left alone to man a machine
gun nest in the face of enemy fire.

In June 1932, Joseph Costa, New York Daily News
photographer, was assigned to go to Washington to cover
the bonus marchers. The veterans had camped in all parts
of the Capital and were daily becoming more insistent on
having their demands met. For a while things were fairly
peaceful, but finally the local police threatened to go into
the shacks and empty buildings where the men had taken
shelter and drive them out. The situation came to a head
one July day when the police went into the buildings and at
the point of pistols pulled out some of the marchers. Others
had to be carried out. Costa made his pictures of these
scenes and rushed to the airport to ship his plates back to
New York.

He returned to confer with Superintendent of Police
Glassford who was standing on a Pennsylvania Avenue lot
with a few of his men nearby. Suddenly a group of the
marchers, led by a husky fellow holding aloft an American
flag, came forward from the other end of the lot. Glassford
and his men rushed to head them off, and Costa tagged
along with them. One of the policemen tried to snatch the
flag from the hands of the leader. Stones flew through the
air, followed by a veritable barrage of bricks, lead pipes and
pieces of plumbing. The battle raged for about five minutes,
and while the police and the veterans were locked in hand
to hand battle, Costa stood his ground between them and
calmly snapped his pictures. Bricks and stones flew past
him and one struck his shoulder and almost felled him, but
he kept on shooting his plates. Finally, the police, outnum-
bered and given orders not to shoot, retreated and took
shelter behind the improvised huts. Unmindful of the pain
in his shoulder, Costa dashed for the airport and shipped
his plates back to his office. They were the most thrilling

76 GET THAT PICTURE

pictures taken of the bonus marchers' "war" and received
front page prominence all over the world.

Costa returned that night to take the pictures of the
burning of the veterans' shacks when the marchers were
finally driven out of their improvised homes on the Capital's
open lots.

His pictorial record of the story was complete.

Two of the most remarkable news photographs ever
taken of the assassinations of high officials were made by
William Warnecke, of the former New York World, and
Samuel Schulman, an International News Photos staff cam-
eraman.

Warnecke was assigned to make pictures of Mayor
Gaynor of New York boarding a steamer at a Hoboken
dock in 1910. He went aboard with the official party, when
suddenly a bullet from the pistol of an insane crank struck
down the city's Chief Executive. As the Mayor tottered
with blood flowing from the side of his face, Warnecke who
had already trained his camera on the Mayor snapped his
picture. It is a remarkable photograph showing two of the
official party rushing forward to assist the Mayor at the
instant he was shot.

Schulman's historic picture was taken at a later date.
He had gone with a score of reporters and cameramen to
Bayfront Park in Miami to cover the arrival of President-
elect Roosevelt in February 1933. Schulman made a few
shots from the bandstand including one of the President-
elect seated on top of his car waving to the crowds and
Mayor Anton Cermak of Chicago and Henry L. Doherty
standing close to him. He climbed down into the crowd
to greet Mayor Cermak whom he knew very well. Bob
Clark, Secret Service man, was passing at the time. The
firing started. Schulman saw the orange flashes and said:
"This sounds like Chicago, Mayor." The Mayor said
nothing, but groaned and collapsed. Clark and Schulman

GET THAT PICTURE 77

tried to pick him up, not knowing at the instant that he had
been shot. They thought he had been pushed by the crowd.
Then Clark felt blood on his fingers and shouted: "He's
been shot!" The crowd took up the shout. Schulman
slipped back to make his remarkable picture while Clark,
L. L. Lee, City Manager of Miami and W. Wood, Na-
tional Committeeman for Dade County, were assisting the
wounded Mayor.

Schulman then turned to get the shots of the assassin,
Guiseppe Zangara, who was quickly nabbed. The plates
were quickly developed, sets of prints were run off for special
distribution, and the negatives were on the way to New
York on the early morning plane.

Every emergency is met in a twinkling of an eye,
whether it be on the coverage of a flood or fire, explosion or
earthquake.

George Watson of Acme News Photos was working
in his laboratory in the Daily News building in Los Angeles
one March day in 1933 when he saw the developing fluid
spilling out the pan and felt the floor shaking under his feet.
He felt the trembling increase with recurrent earthquake
shocks. It was no time to stay in the building. He grabbed
his camera, rushed into the street and took pictures of a
crumbling structure. Realizing that more violent tremblors
may topple his office into ruins, he rushed back, got some
developer and then returned to the street. In the back of an
automobile, he developed his plates and rushed to the tele-
photo office with a finished negative for wire transmission.

Working amid mobs bent on destruction of life or prop-
erty is dangerous business for the news cameraman. It calls
into play every ounce of mental and physical strength and
courage. The cameraman has oftimes become the target
of the crowd's pent-up hate and frenzy.

The leaders of a mob, especially in a lynching, do not

78 GET THAT PICTURE

want their pictures taken for fear of being recognized and
prosecuted by the law.

A lynching mob was battering down the doors of the
San Jose, California, jail one night in November, 1933, to
get to two accused slayers, John M. Holmes and Thomas
B. Thurmond, when Louis Gardner, a San Jose Mercury
Herald cameraman, along with other photographers, started
banging away with their cameras. The fury of the crowd
was turned on him when he set off the flash bulbs. They
were bent on destroying his plates and camera. Quickly he
turned and slipped them to Paul Leaman, a fellow reporter,
who raced out of the crowd and tossed them into the auto-
mobile of Mrs. Wilson Albee, wife of the news editor of
the paper. She rushed them safely to the office.

Gardner was seized and searched, and elbowed about in
a rough fashion, before he was released.

Mob fury at Salisbury, Maryland, in November, 1933,
spelled many an anxious moment for the cameramen and
reporters who were beaten and buffeted before they were
able to find a safe retreat in a hotel room.

The militia had been sent by Governor Ritchie to arrest
a number of men supposed to have been the leaders of a
mob which several months previous had lynched George
Armwood, a negro, who had been arrested charged with
raping an aged white woman.

After the militia had been forced to retreat in face of
overwhelming numbers, the crowd wreaked their vengeance
on the newspapermen. Automobiles and cameras were
destroyed, and a sound truck was hurled into the Wicomico
River. The manager of the hotel where they were stopping
came to their aid. He spirited them into a top floor room
while a crowd outside and in the lobby were yelling for them.
Later they were able to retreat through a back door and
race for planes and cars in waiting outside the town limits.

Even the wrath of an individual who is averse to having

GET THAT PICTURE 79

his or her picture taken may be turned upon the photogra-
pher.

At a wrestling match in Philadelphia in April, 1934,
Donald Corvelli, an Evening Ledger photographer, was
knocked down by Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr., when he tried
to snap his picture. With a shout of: "I don't like to have
my picture taken!", young Roosevelt jumped on the camera
several times to destroy it as well as the plates. But quick
thinking saved Corvelli's shot. He managed to shove the
holder under his coat before his equipment went down under
the stamping of feet. It appeared the next day in Corvelli's
paper.

A touch of the humorous may sometimes relieve the
tension and anxiety on a picture assignment. It smacked
more of the slapstick comedy of the early movie days in the
following story of George Schmidt, New York Daily News
photographer.

Schmidt was assigned to cover the Bud Stillman wedding
at the home of his mother, Mrs. Fifi Stillman, at Grand
Anse, Canada. He had to fly from Grand Mere 50 miles
up the St. Maurice River to get to the house. He and
John O'Donnell, a fellow reporter, had made arrangements
with the other newspaper reporters and cameramen to
cover the job for them. The News men were to get the
preliminary stuff that day and fly back to Grand Mere where
the rest were waiting. Schmidt, knowing Mrs. Stillman
well on previous assignments, had obtained her permission
to cover the wedding.

After circling about for a while, the flying boat finally
managed to alight in log-filled waters close to the shore of
a small island opposite the Stillman home. An employee
of Mrs. Stillman's seeing them alight rowed over to them
and brought them to the mainland to greet Mrs. Stillman.
At first she thought they were guests. When she learned
they were newspapermen she ordered them to get out. She

8o GET THAT PICTURE

had changed her mind about permitting photographs of the
wedding.

Crestfallen, they went back to the island. But the flying
boat could not take off. The pilot told them he had to go
back alone and he could not take off with the load of three
persons. There they were stranded on the island and dark-
ness was coming on. They had not had anything to eat
since morning. They hallooed to the man with the boat who
took pity on them and brought them back to the mainland.
They sat themselves down on a back road hoping that a car
would pass to take them to the nearest town. Darkness
was fast approaching. Mrs. Stillman's chef, out for a walk,
saw them and asked them into the kitchen for a bite. Sand-
wiches and tea gulped down, they surreptitiously stole back
to their places on the road.

Finally a truck carrying chairs for the wedding taking
place the following day hove into sight, and the driver told
them he would take them to La Toque after they were
through unloading. At three in the morning, the truck
showed up again, and after a bumpy ride in which Schmidt
thought he had broken his plates, arrived at La Toque at
seven o'clock.

In the meantime the reporters and cameramen awaiting
impatiently their return at Grand Mere had thought that
Schmidt and O'Donnell had doublecrossed them, so they
decided to take a train to La Toque and then go by car to
the Stillman home. The News men tumbled out of the
truck as the others were getting off the train, and there were
a few angry words passed before they were told what hap-
pened. Grins and laughter followed. They then all decided
to cover the wedding en masse.

The wedding was taking place on the lawn as the news-
papermen drove up. Decidedly, no pictures would be al-
lowed. The place was barred. The cameramen decided
to hop the fence. The bride and groom were cutting the

GET THAT PICTURE 8 1

wedding cake when the photographers stormed the grounds.
Infuriated, Mrs. Stillman dashed to the end of the table
where a pile of large plates were stacked, and one by one,
started hurling them at the photographers. Weaving in and
out, ducking the plates, the cameramen kept on shooting
their pictures. Mrs. Stillman or no Mrs. Stillman, plates
or no plates, they could not come a thousand miles without
getting their shots. Their work done, they scampered back
to the road amid the angry shouts of the Canadian back-
woodsmen and the laughter of the New York socialite
guests.

On many occasions, newspaper publishers have been
forced to take defensive measures to protect their camera-
men from violence.

During a textile strike in Passaic and Clifton, N. J. in
March, 1926, the police of the two towns beat many report-
ers and cameramen in an attempt to keep them away from
the mills. There was much talk of rough police tactics in
dealing with the strikers, and the police did not want the
news and pictures to get out. Five thousand dollars worth
of cameras and equipments were smashed in their raids on
the photographers.

The situation was serious. The New York Mirror sent
two armored cars with reporters and cameramen. The New
York News sent one.

Despite attempts made by traffic policemen to hold them
up on pretexts of traffic violations, they got through, and
the newspapermen got their pictures and stories.

Covering the same story, Larry Froeber, Daily News
cameraman and other photographers were on the roof of a
building snapping the scenes of a riot. Just as they were
about to leave, with their backs to the street, they were seen
by the police. Larry conducted his fellow workers into an
empty room a few stories below when the police opened the
door. But they had hidden their cameras in an old stove.

82 GET THAT PICTURE

"Damned glad you have no cameras," was the parting shot
of the police as they walked out.

The cameraman has braved the dangers of flood and
fire, risked his life in war and peace time strife and run the
gauntlet of inflamed mobs. He has not come through un-
scathed. Clubs have left their marks and bullets their
wounds. Many a photographer has laid down his life in the
line of duty.

Many years ago the Goodyear Company launched its
first blimp, a fourteen passenger craft. It was to make a
triumphant flight over Chicago.

Fourteen men board the blimp for an inspection flight
over the city. In midair the ship catches fire. The men
leap from the ship as it drops into the heart, of the city and
crashes in flames on the roof of a bank building. One who
leaps is Milton Norton, an International News Photos
cameraman, but not until after he had made a shot of the
fire. His parachute floats down but then catches on the
cornice of a La Salle Street building. Norton drops four
stories to the street.

When he awakens for a brief conscious moment his
weary eyes encompass the circle of anxious friends and
relatives, and he whispers: "How did my plates come out?"

A loving voice replies: "They came out swell." With
a smile on his lips, he breathed his last. He never knew
that the negative he had placed in his hip pocket had been
pounded into a thousand bits.

Back of all these thrilling stories of the unsung heroes
of the press lies just one dominant and all-compelling pur-
pose— the will to serve his editor and the public well. His
is the song and sage of the mechanized world in which we
live; he seeks no honors, no glory, he goes about his daily
duties with but a single thought in mind, a simple and pro-
found loyalty to his profession.

He is the Man behind the camera !

Chapter VI.

FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS
CAMERAMAN

After many years of tilting with adventure in Hawaii,
Samoa, Russia, the Philippines, in which he recorded with
facile pen the thrill and danger of revolution, war, intrigue
and the day-in-and-day-out event, prosaic recording but
never lacking in color, Linton Wells, world famous cor-
respondent, finally returned to his home soil in 1921 — a
welcome respite from the swirling currents of the Orient.
He settled in Hollywood and wrote articles on the movie
colony glamor. It was not long before Wells, who could
produce as fine a news picture as he could a thrilling yarn
for page one, was called upon to play the master role in
one of the most exciting picture stunts ever pulled.

Wells was in Los Angeles when the flash was received
that the liner City of Honolulu caught fire seven hundred
miles from Los Angeles while on her maiden trip from
Honolulu, and soon afterward, the relieving word that the
United States Army transport Thomas had rescued every
passenger and member of the crew and was bringing them
to San Pedro. Wells, at the time, was Pacific Coast
manager of the Pacific and Atlantic Photos, syndicate of
the Chicago Tribune and New York Daily News, which
had been organized late in 1921 to service the two live
newspapers with the best news pictures from all parts of
the world, and later to branch into one of the largest
distributors of news and feature reproductions.

Without losing a moment's time, he flashed a radio
message to the survivors aboard the Thomas bidding for
pictures of the burning ship and the actual scenes of the

84 GET THAT PICTURE

rescue. An answer was given that he could get six rolls
of undeveloped film for $150, which he accepted.

Then he went to work on a plan of action. Un-
doubtedly, other picture agencies were also bidding for
pictures taken of the disaster. It would not do to wait
for the perfunctory arrival of the ship at San Pedro. So
he hit upon the idea of boarding the Thomas somewhere
at sea to obtain the first photographs and interviews. A
wireless to the Captain requesting permission to do so was
answered with a curt refusal. The Captain bluntly stated
that he would not pick up anyone. Undaunted, Wells went
ahead with his plans. He chartered a flying boat and took
off in search of the rescue ship.

Visibility was perfect. The sea was as smooth as glass.
Wells figured that the Thomas would be in the vicinity
of the Santa Barbara Channel, so he ordered the pilot
to fly in that direction. Sighting the ship, the aviator
maneuvered the plane until it was about fifty feet above
the water. Wells then rose from his seat in the bow,
tightened his life jacket, muttered a prayer, and leaped
over the side. Inside the jacket, encased in waterproof
material, was a wad of five hundred dollars.

When, after what seemed an eternity, he rose to the
surface, he shook the water from his eyes and glanced
around. The plane was already heading back toward the
California shore. The Thomas loomed ahead in the
distance. Minutes of waving, and then Wells saw a life-
boat being lowered. He breathed a sigh of relief. He
felt he could not have stayed much longer in the cold
water which seemed to be paralyzing him from shoulder
to toe. In a short while he was hoisted aboard and faced
the Captain. A torrent of abuse escaped from the Cap-
tain's lips when he told him the purpose of the stunt, but
after much pleading, the skipper relented and he was

GET THAT PICTURE 85

allowed to seek his interviews and purchase his rolls of
film.

Fifteen minutes of fast work brought him enough
words and undeveloped film to fill many newspaper pages.
In the meanwhile he kept an eagle eye open for the return
of the plane. It soon came into sight and made a perfect
landing some distance from the starboard bow. Wrapping
his films and notes in the waterproof material, he dived
overboard. Swimming furiously, he fought his way from
the sucking currents around the ship to meet the seaplane
taxiing toward him. He was hauled into the plane's cock-
pit, and in a trice, they were in the air, winging full speed
toward San .Pedro. Three hours later he was in Los
Angeles with the first pictures and stories of the disaster —
a full twelve hour beat over his competitors.

Some time later, Wells figured in another news photo-
graphic exploit which revealed him as a man of extra-
ordinary courage and ingenuity.

Forty-seven miners were trapped 4600 feet under-
ground when a cave-in followed by fire on an upper level
cut off their escape in the gold-bearing Argonaut Mine at
Jackson, California, a town of 5000 inhabitants in the
mountains of Amador County. A desperate attempt to
rescue them by boring a tunnel through an adjacent shaft
was being started when scores of newspaper men and
women and photographers converged on the grief stricken
town. Day and night, without a moment's letup, the
rescue party toiled on, ever beset by fears that they could
not reach the trapped men in time. It was a grim drama
that electrified the world.

But the reporters and photographers were confronted
with a problem which threatened to nip in the bud one of
the best stories in years. The citizens of Jackson were a
tough lot, a law unto themselves, and they were "agin"
the jidea of publicizing their misfortune. So they con-
tinually harassed the representatives of the press, goading

86 GET THAT PICTURE

them into fights, reviling and threatening them. With the
days passing, the tension became greater, and the nerves
of everyone were ready to snap. The bellicose Sheriff of
Amador County was gun and shield behind the residents
and lined up solidly with them to hinder the work of the
newsmen and women, with instructions to shoot any man
on mine property with a camera. His favorite reply to
protests was: uGet the hell out of here if you don't like
the way you're being treated!"

The day approached when the rescue party was about
to break through to the entombed miners. The photogra-
phers were gathered on the porch of the hotel discussing
the ways and means of getting pictures at the mine
entrance. A group of citizens heard them and sauntered
over.

"Listen, you fellows," one husky shouted, "I'm warn-
ing you. Get the hell out of this town, and get out quick.
I've got a brother down there, and if any one of you guys
starts taking pictures> I'm startin' shootin'." The others
nodded their heads in assent. A second voiced a like warn-
ing. A third and fourth followed suit. The sheriff in the
meantime had given strict orders that no pictures were to
be taken at the mine entrance. The outlook was hopeless.
Most of the photographers that day packed up and left
town.

Wells had been assigned to take pictures as well as
cover the news. Reluctant to leave, he decided to wire
his boss, Teddy Beck, managing editor of the Chicago
Tribune. The answer came back: "Get pictures. Dead
or alive." He went into consultation with his associate,
B. W. Hellings, San Francisco bureau manager. They
decided that if Beck wants pictures, he'll get them.

They then bought two vest pocket Kodaks which they
placed inside their caps, cutting holes in them so the
lenses would have free play. They then tested their

GET THAT PICTURE 87

ability to focus the cameras blindly, press the trigger and
turn the film accurately without attracting attention.

In the meantime word had been flashed that the rescue
party had broken through and found the trapped men
dead. Wells posted himself at the mine entrance while
Hellings went to the cyanide mill where the bodies were to
be taken to be prepared for burial. Seating himself on a
pile of lumber, Wells placed the cap covering the camera
on his knee. jNearby was a deputy sheriff with a .45
hanging from his hip. The first three corpses were being
carried out of the shaft and lifted onto stretchers a scant
ten feet away from Wells. He pressed the trigger. In
his ears the click sounded like a boom of thunder. But the
sheriff made no move. He was safe. He twisted the
roller-key and shot again. After his roll of film was
taken, Wells rose, stretched, and walked casually back to
his car.

In the meantime Hellings had been employing the
same surreptitious methods to get pictures of the bodies
laid out in the temporary morgue. They met at a pre-
arranged spot, and then hurried over to the darkroom of
a local photographer which they had hired. They were
overwhelmed with joy to find that both strips of film were
perfect. There wasn't a single out-of-focus shot. In a
little while they were on their way to a plane which they
had kept waiting for a week. Off like a shot, they headed
for Mather Field in Sacramento, and soon afterward, the
only pictures ever taken of the dead miners were aboard
an eastbound train — a perfect scoop !

A week later, Wells received a warning that he better
never set foot again in Amador County — or else!

Thus the ingenious cameraman learns how to overcome
all opposition. Sometimes, as in the case of Wells and
Hellings, it is the wrath of a citizenry, backed up with
guns, which they have to face. Other times, company
officials remain adamant. It may be a mine disaster, an

88 GET THAT PICTURE

explosion, a fire, a strike — it's a set of circumstances
enough to break down any man's morale and almost forces
him to go slinking back to the office with the weak plea
that there are simply no pictures to be made.

But the trigger-quick cameraman nine times out of ten
will work out a solution. Take the case of Anthony
Camerano, a youthful mainstay on the staff of the Associ-
ated Press Photo Syndicate.

The night editor had received word that the workers
in the power house of the Brooklyn Manhattan Transit
Company had staged a sit-down strike. It threatened a
complete tie-up of one of the two main subway lines in
Brooklyn. Camerano, on the night trick, was assigned
to go to the Kent Avenue plant. On his arrival there he
met a score of other cameramen milling around in front of
the plant. It meant the usual pictures — a night flash of
the exterior, a shot of the strikers bunched at the windows
jeering and laughing at the police and crowd below them.
But Camerano wanted an interior shot, and he was de-
termined to get it. But how? The police firmly ruled
no photographer was to be allowed in.

Camerano glanced upward and saw that one of the
first story windows where some of the strikers were gath-
ered was about fifteen feet above the ground. He went
into action immediately. Beckoning Frank Gebman, an-
other news photographer, to one side, he whispered his
plans into Frank's ear. They turned and saw the police
at a fairly safe distance from the spot. Cautiously mak-
ing their way to a place directly below the window,
Camerano huskily whispered to one of the strikers : uHey,
buddy, make a shot for me. I'll get the camera up to
you." The striker, stirred by the boldness of the stunt,
replied that he would. Up went Gebman on Camerano's
shoulders and handed over the camera to the striker, giv-
ing him a few crisp instructions how to use it. In a min-
ute, the camera plotters saw the reflection of a flash. They

A BLOW THAT ALMOST COST TUNNEY HIS TITLE

Jack Dempsey landing the blow that floored Jack Tunney and kept him on

the canvas for thirteen seconds during- their battle for the heavyweight

crown at Chicago, September 22, 1927. Tunney resumed the fight and won,

retaining his crown.

HO-HUM— MOVIE LIFE IS SO BORING

Brought to Hollywood to act in the movies, Big Blaze prefers his native

haunts in Africa, and gives one big yawn to make you realize he's tired of

the movie lots. More of that fearsome display of sharp teeth, and he

will probably be sent back.

GET THAT PICTURE 89

smiled. There Hvas a chance that the fellow up there
might have missed, but still. . . . Gebman climbed on
Camerano's shoulders once again, reached for the camera,
whispered many thanks, and amid the cheers of the strik-
ers, raced quickly from the scene. Later, the shot was
found to be perfect. The two conspirators would have
liked to have taken one more grand shot — the look of
bewilderment and chagrin on the faces of the company
executives when they saw the picture in a page-one spread
in the morning papers.

Camerano is a brave fellow. Just one of a legion of
camera bearers who withstand all the rigors of their
profession without a murmur and take injuries in the stride
without a twitch of a muscle.

Tony, as he is popularly called by his co-workers, was
covering the sinking of the steamer Lexington in the East
River one cold Winter night. With a boy to assist him
in carrying the equipment, he had rushed down to the
vicinity of the Brooklyn Bridge. From the end of a New
York shore pier he made a couple of shots of the funnel
sticking up out of the river's murky depths. He then
learned that the main part of the wreck was a half mile
further upstream. On the run, Tony and the boy jumped
into a taxi which he had kept waiting and headed for the
scene.

,He reached for his spread pan. The bright flare from
the magnesium powder was what was needed to illumine
enough of the scene to bring the wreckage into sharp
relief. From a small bottle he dumped about two ounces
of the dangerous powder onto the pan. He could hardly
keep it steady. A strong wind was blowing. He reached
into the case for his gloves but then suddenly remembered
that he had left them in the office. Without them he
realized that there would be some danger to the job, but
without stopping to weigh the consequences, he kept on
with his preparations for taking the picture.

90 GET THAT PICTURE

As he tried desperately to steady the pan, the wind
blew some of the powder onto his bare hand. He pulled
the flash, and then a terrible pain shot through him. The
spread pan clattered to the ground. The flash had ig-
nited the loose powder on his hand. He took one glance
at it. It was a backened mass from finger tips to wrist.
But Tony realized that one shot would not suffice on a
story of that magnitude. Biting his lips from pain, Tony
had his assistant give him four more holders and then
made four more shots. When they reached the office, he
handed over the holders to the editor in methodical fash-
ion and then asked for medical assistance. He was rushed
to the hospital in a cab. But Camerano was not content
to rest until the doctor had phoned the office and learned
that all his shots were good. He stayed in the hospital
until his hand healed.

Many photographers have been thrust into a "battle
line" of a story with but a minute's warning, and, as a
result, they have Jiad to suffer tortures because of the
lack of adequate safeguards. But they never uttered a
squeal so long as they had their trusty cameras and plenty
of loaded holders and bulbs. Fair weather or foul, cam-
eramen have dashed into the cockpits of planes wearing
their ordinary street clothes, hardly suitable to withstand
the rain or snow or the low temperatures of high altitudes,
others have recklessly plunged into the thick of a tear gas
attack in a strike with no masks or other protection
against the noxious effects. And it is a common occur-
rence for a cameraman to go without food and sleep,
sometimes for hours stretching into days, suffering these
privations until he has definitely "cleaned up" the story.

When Ernest Sisto, a veteran wizard of the news lens,
was told to load his case in a hurry and grab the first train
for Port Jervis one August day in 1928, he little knew
what troubles were in store for him. He had just returned
from an ordinary ship news assignment, having been up

GET THAT PICTURE 91

since five that morning. Thoughts of a hot dinner were
tickling his palate when the first words hurled at him as
he entered the workroom of the Wide World Photos in the
New York Times Annex were: "Merrill's plane wreckage
has been found near Milford, Pennsylvania, right near the
New York border. Get to Port Jervis quickly and go on
from there. It's way up in the mountains."

The thoughts that he was hungry and tired, and the
fact that he was wearing a thin summer suit and ordinary
street shoes, were not in his mind. Plenty of holders,
bulbs, his camera — destination, Port Jervis — time, half
hour to catch the train on the Jersey side. Snatching a
flimsy, a report of the story which had come over the wire,
he dashed into the elevator and was off. Weaving in and
out of traffic in the cab which he had hailed on the corner
he had time to glimpse a summary of the facts : The
wreckage of the plane in which Mazel (Merry) Merrill,
director of the Curtiss Flying Service on Long Island,
and Edwin M. Ronne, manager of the Buffalo Airport,
were flying from New York to Buffalo, was sighted by
pilots on a mountain top near Milford, and a searching
party had been organized to go by foot to the scene of the
crash.

Reaching Port Jervis, Sisto learned that a number of
news photographers had already arrived there and gone
on ahead with the searching party. A hired xar bumped
him along a narrow, winding path to the foot of the
mountain. Before him were the dense woods stretching
upward along the mountain side. There was a narrow
path which seemingly led into the heart of the dense
foliage, and he decided to follow that. It was a tortuous
climb. With every step the strap of the camera case cut
deeper into his neck and shoulders. The going became
tougher. Finally the path dwindled into hardly more than
a rail width and then stopped. He hesitated for a
moment. In what direction should he go? Before him

92 GET THAT PICTURE

lay a thick tangle of trees and brush. He studied the
ground carefully and found faint impressions of foot-
prints. He went on ahead, but would stop every now and
again to look for the telltale evidence of trampled ground
and bent or broken branches. Finally, after what seemed
like days, he heard a faroff sound of voices. Gasping for
breath, he struggled forward and almost collapsed as he
sighted the group amid the wreckage strewn over a wide
area.

The troopers and civilians were placing the mangled
remains of the fliers into wicker baskets, and the photo-
graphers were training their cameras on the twisted
fuselage and broken motor. They turned to look at him
in amazement. One of the men came forward and stead-
ied him. "How did yuh ever find us?", he asked. "Even
trappers would a had trouble gettin' here. And lands
sakes, man, do yuh know these woods are full o' snakes
and wildcats?" The burly farmhand looked down at the
cameraman in admiration. "Well, I'm here," Sisto weakly
replied, and went to work opening his case and getting his
camera and holders ready for action. What mattered that
his clothes were torn in a dozen places and that he could
hardly stand from a pain that shot upward from his soles
to his knees. There were pictures to be taken !

The searchers were already starting their return trip,
the wicker baskets with the grim remains swinging between
two long sticks held tightly in their hands, when Sisto
completed a half dozen shots of the wreckage. He thought
a shot of the men holding the baskets would be worth-
while, but the sharp command of a trooper stopped him.
"Nuthin' doin', buddy", he shouted, and he held a pistol
in his hand to back up his warning. Sisto rejoined the
photographers. "Gee, that would be a swell shot," he
kept muttering on his way back, and then an idea flashed
in his mind. "Let's help 'em carry the baskets down, and
maybe they'll soften a bit." So with their camera cases

GET THAT PICTURE 93

tugging at their backs, the cameramen took turns helping
the party. Sisto, in spite of a hundred aches, was one of
them. It was his idea, so he couldn't reneg. He glanced
at his companions. They seemed prepared for this emerg-
ency. They had on leather jackets and high heavy shoes.
Well, he would know better next time. He kept on hob-
bling like a wounded rabbit.

When they reached the edge of the woods, the troopers
relented and allowed the cameramen to take the pictures
they wanted so badly. They figured the fellows deserved
at least that much for being so helpful.

The cameramen reached Port Jervis just in time to
catch a train; not a moment to spare to stop for even a
sandwich. They were too tired even to talk of food.
Sisto slumped down in his seat. Numbed so by fatigue
he was insensible to pain, and in a few minutes he was fast
asleep. One of the fellows looked down and saw a splotch
of blood at Sisto's feet. They bent down and removed
his shoes. His ankles had been scraped through clean
to the bone. The bottoms of the shoes were filled with a
half inch of blood. They bound his feet with handker-
chiefs. Sisto slept through it all.

Photographers who covered the story of Floyd Collins
trapped in Sand Cave near Cave City, Kentucky, in the
early part of 1925, suffered the privations of hunger and
lack of sleep for two solid weeks, but they realized that it
was nothing in face of the tortures the trapped man was
enduring in his vain effort to escape. They only hoped
and prayed that he could be brought out alive. The drama
of the grim struggle to free the man had gripped the
world. The tunnel which led to the place where Collins
was locked in had collapsed. It necessitated the driving
of a shaft which took two weeks. The fight was fruitless.
Collins was found dead. During all that time the photog-
raphers were ever on the scene not daring to leave for a

94 GET THAT PICTURE

moment lest the flash come that the rescue party had
finally reached him.

William Eckenberg, a Wide World photographer, who
was rushed from New York to cover the story, relates that
in the beginning he had taken a hotel room in Cave City
which meant continuous riding back and forth over a bad
12-mile stretch of road. As the story grew, and efforts
were intensified to reach the victim, Eckenberg realized
that he would have to stay on the scene every moment of
the day and night. He gave up his hotel room and lived
at the cave site. He says that for the last four days of
the story he never got to bed, and lived for the best part
of the time on greasy sausages. He lost twenty pounds
covering the story. Though he was one of the fortunate
few to escape having pneumonia, he went down with a
bad case of influenza two days after returning to New
York.

Eckenberg recalls an interesting experience during the
coverage of the story. It reveals the unflagging zeal of a
cameraman to cover all angles, not daring to miss a single
shot, even though worn by fatigue and hunger. One
midnight he heard that an opposition photographer had
secured a copy of a picture Collins had made ten days
before he was trapped. There wasn't a moment to lose.
The picture was in a town 80 miles away. Eckenberg
hopped into his car and drove it at full speed over rain-
lashed, winding roads. He finally secured the original
print, made flashlight copies just in time to make a train
connection for New York. The undeveloped negative
reached his home office in time to give him an even break
with the opposition.

Being caught between two fires is not an unusual pre-
dicament for the photographer when he is covering a strike
riot or a flareup during a demonstration, but Jerry
Frankel, a New York Journal cameraman, never expected
to be caught in that fashion when he was told by the city

GET THAT PICTURE 95

editor to go to a house in the upper 'yo's and photograph
a certain young woman.

At the time, the police were searching high and low
for Two-Gun Crowley, a young desperado. He had taken
the life of a policeman in Long Island, and he was be-
lieved to be involved in a number of subsequent shootings.
The city editor had received an anonymous tip that the
young woman was a friend of Crowley's. This informa-
tion was never imparted to Jerry. He left the office
thinking it was just another casual assignment.

Jerry arrived at the address, a brownstone house,
climbed a flight of stairs and knocked on the door. A
voice boomed from behind the door: "What d'ye want?",
and then the door was thrown open. Jerry was face to
face with a man whose eyes glittered in wrath. Jerry
asked for Miss . . . ., and the door slammed in his face.
"Well, isn't he the kind soul," he mused, and retreated
to the first floor landing. Just as his hand rested on the
knob to turn it, a crash of gunfire split the air. Then a
return blast from the room above him. A bullet tore
through the vestibule door, a scant few inches from where
he stood. He flattened himself against the wall. Sudden-
ly, a lull in the shooting, and then the door crashed in.
A half dozen policemen streamed in, and he found himself
looking into the muzzles of pistols, while he quakingly ex-
plained who he was. They told him they've got Two-Gun
Crowley cornered in the room above them. Jerry was no
longer the quaking soul. In a few minutes he was every-
where around the building, shooting pictures of the man-
acled Crowley and the room in which he had made his
last stand. Then back to the office with the first pictures
on the story — and a grand beat. His eye-witness story
went into the first editions, and over the wires — and made
his triumph complete.

Dodging bullets and tear gas bombs kept the camera-
men on the qui vive while shooting pictures of the steel

96 GET THAT PICTURE

strike disorders in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana
and Illinois during the late Spring of 1937. The news
photographers were right in the thick of the battles at
Warren and Youngstown in Ohio, at Monroe, Michigan,
at Johnstown, Pennsylvania, and at the fatal clash at
South Chicago in which eleven persons were killed and a
hundred injured. It was gruelling time for the boys. It
meant for most of them to be on the job nearly 24 hours
of the day for no one could tell where the next flareup
would occur. Their press passes meant little or nothing
to the police and strikers locked in battle. Oftimes they
became the special targets for both sides.

There was trouble brewing in Monroe when Albert
Haut, Detroit manager of the Wide World Photos, was
advised by the New York editor to get there in a hurry.
The Republic Steel Company officials were determined to
reopen their plant on a specified day, and the pickets were
just as determined to prevent the reopening.

Haut arrived in Monroe a day before the strikers
were to be ousted from their picket line located about a
half mile from the plant on the only accessible road which
they had blocked off. After shooting pictures of the
pickets halting cars, policing the road and breakfasting at
the commissary tent, he rushed back to photograph the
deputies being sworn in as part of the vigilante group
which the mayor was gathering. Then off to the hired
darkroom where he developed his negatives, made prints
and proceeded to send wired photo transmissions to vari-
ous newspapers throughout the United States.

The real trouble was expected on the morrow. Haut
surveyed the scene of the possible riot, and decided that
the best vantage point would be the main road where the
two forces, the vigilantes and the pickets, would un-
doubtedly meet. On one side was a branch road and on
the other a lake. Haut figured that a hired truck would

GET THAT PICTURE 97

be a swell thing to give the photographers elevation and
ability to maneuver quickly for good position.

He talked it over with the other cameramen. They
liked the idea. The truck was hired and placed in what
they thought was the best position. The men were ready
for the "fireworks." Some ground shots were made as
the foes clashed. Then from somewhere a tear gas bomb
was thrown among the strikers. A strike sympathizer
pointed to the cameramen and insisted that one of them
had thrown it. Suddenly, without warning, a veritable
barrage of tear gas bombs burst over and around the
truck. Some pickets dashed over and started using the
truck as a barricade. That meant a new deluge of tear
and nauseating gas bombs. Between shooting pictures and
ducking the bombs, the cameramen had their hands full.
With tears streaming down their faces and many vomiting
from the effects of the nauseating gas, the photographers
shouted to the vigilantes to stop shooting, but of no
avail. The bombs fell thicker.

The cameramen then decided to take their truck down
the road, but the pickets followed them. The fighting was
scattered in all directions, and their truck maneuvered
back and forth as the fighting progressed around them.
In spite of the thick fumes, Haut remembered to take two
precautions which kept him on the job shooting his pictures
without a letup. One was not to rub his eyes and the
other to take a deep breath when he saw a nauseating gas
bomb explode near him. He was then able to hold his
breath until most of the fumes had evaporated. He es-
caped being hit by the projectiles by a margin of inches as
they swished over his head. However, in spite of all pre-
cautions, he managed to inhale some of the gas. When
the fighting was ended, he staggered back to the darkroom,
developed his negatives, made prints, sent messages to the
New York office, and transmitted many of the pictures by
wire over his portable set. He collapsed when the work

98 GET THAT PICTURE

was ended, and suffered vomiting spells for a week after-
ward.

Haut was also in the thick of it when the riot broke
out at the Ford automobile plant at Dearborn, Michigan,
on May 26, following the attempt of the United Auto
Workers Union to distribute leaflets to the workers leaving
the plant.

Union officials Frankensteen, Reuther and others, fol-
lowed by newspaper reporters and photographers, had
mounted the ramp stairway leading to the bridge near the
plant. Some husky looking fellows sauntered over and
told the union officials to get off the bridge. In a trice the
men piled into Frankensteen as the photographers kept
shooting the pictures. Then the fracas started on the
other side of the bridge where other officials were being
forced down the opposite stairway. The cameramen raced
around to that side to make a few pictures of the fighting
which continued for about twenty minutes. A Ford police-
man dashed over and relieved Haut of most of his holders.
Undaunted, Haut climbed a parked car to shoot pictures
of a girl union leader being manhandled. Instantly, an-
other Ford man was on top of Haut and snatched his
holders from him while another pointed to the camera
case. Hoping to save what might be a few good shots,
Haut scrambled down, grabbed his case and ran with the
Ford man after him. He escaped. Some of the other
photographers were pursued in cars outside the city limits.
One startling shot came out intact — and one of the most
damaging to the Ford cause. It showed Frankensteen,
with coat pulled over his head, being mauled unmercifully.

The coverage of the Republic Steel strike riot at
Youngstown, Ohio, on the night of June 19 nearly cost
the life of Edward Salt, a cameraman on the staff of the
Youngstown Vindicator.

Salt had already started on a two-weeks vacation when
he learned of the long feared riot between police and

GET THAT PICTURE 99

pickets had broken out in Poland Avenue, in a foreign sec-
tion of the city where hatred for police, steel company
officials and newspapermen had been running high for
more than two weeks. He dashed back to the office and
reported for duty.

Arriving at the scene he found police blocking the
road at two places. They tried to turn him back, but,
after much persuasion, he was allowed to go on.

In a gas filled pocket between a towering hill and an
elevated railroad, Salt found the pickets milling around
in the streets while police tried to force them back. The
fumes from exploded gas bombs nearly choked him. His
first picture came almost immediately when pickets brought
out an empty tear gas shell. He then pushed through the
police lines, down into a "no man's land," where police
and deputy sheriffs hidden by trucks, cars and other pro-
tection, were returning the fire of snipers from the over-
looking hillside.

Down there, he learned a police car had been over-
turned, looted and set afire by pickets. It was out in the
middle of the gas-filled "no man's land." Salt started out,
wanting that picture in particular for the Sunday edition.
A string of automobiles protected him as he hunched along
the sidewalk while bullets whizzed overhead. When he
reached the end of the parked cars, he realized the danger
of attempting to take a picture. Away from both police
and pickets, he would have been the immediate target of
a crossfire as soon as he flashed a bulb. He decided it
was too risky. He would wait a while.

Just then a battle broke loose. Several hundred feet
from him, pickets rushed police. Officers retaliated with a
barrage of tear gas. Shot guns and tear gas rifles boomed
all around. He made some shots as the crowd of men
and women broke and ran in an effort to escape the gas
which police shot after them as they ran up the hillside.

The battle died down and Salt started back to the

100 GET THAT PICTURE

police lines. When he reached the end of parked cars, he
heard someone hiding in the shadows across the street
shout: "Let him have it now." Salt ducked behind a car,
held up the camera which they could see in the bright
moonlight, and waited a moment. Then he walked out.

He was half way between the car and a telephone
pole when one of the men yelled for him to come across
the street. Salt couldn't answer back because of the gas
mask he was wearing. Anyway he wouldn't take the
chance. Going there would undoubtedly mean a beating
by the pickets, and secondly, water released from fire
hydrants by pickets to carry away the tear gas, formed
two miniature rivers. Salt ducked behind the pole.

He heard one man say: "I don't know how to pump
this thing," and another asked for the gun. A moment
later a charge of shot hit Salt in both legs. Almost im-
mediately there was a second shot, pellets tearing into his
arm. With the second shot, he dashed from behind the
pole and ran. He headed for a fire station where report-
ers and another photographer had taken refuge from a
menacing crowd of strikers. While several strikers lurched
for him, Salt hammered on the barred door and was ad-
mitted. Seeing his blood stained clothing, they decided
immediately to take him to a hospital.

Firemen and reporters told him they could never get
the camera through the picket lines, so it was left behind.
Salt stuffed the exposed film in his shirt. They reached
the car with little trouble. Twice as they were leaving the
zone they were stopped by barricades and ranks of men
closing the street. But picket captains, advised he had
been shot, had the men clear the way so they could get
through.

A few minutes after Salt reached the hospital, the
first fatal victim of the riot arrived. He had been killed
instantly by a gun charge, almost directly across the street
from where Salt was shot. In all, two men were killed,

GET THAT PICTURE IOI

and more than two scores of others wounded or burned
by tear gas. Nineteen shot gun pellets had crashed into
Salt's legs and arms. He was in the hospital for some
time.

Later, Salt revisited the scene of the shooting. The
pole behind which he had taken refuge was pitted with
dozens of shotgun pellets.

The steel strike disorders everywhere were terrifying
experiences for the news photographers. At Warren,
Ohio, three cameramen, Charles Wilk, Cleveland manager
of Wide World Photos, Mack Baron, of International
News, and Jack Hines, Associated Press staffer, were fired
upon and dropped into a ditch as bullets whizzed over
their heads. At the time, they were taking pictures of a
food airplane landing in the Warren steel plant enclosure.

Dodging bullets in the steel strike was just one of the
many thrills experienced by Baron in his long career as a
news cameraman. "Buck," as he is popularly known, has
oftimes been called the "ace flying photographer," and the
"fearless photographer," and has lived a veritable charmed
life amid the dangers of his career. He has taken the
longest chances but has always come out on top. "It can't
be done," are words that are as unknown to him as a
Tibetan chant. Now the Morro Castle disaster. . . . Buck
will smile proudly when he recounts that experience. It
brought him his greatest fame.

The phone jangled wildly in the bedroom of Baron's
home in Sunnyside, Long Island, one early morning in
September, 1934. Buck stirred several times in bed, then
finally forced himself to answer the phone. He switched
on the light, glanced at the time (it was a little after
three), then glued his ear to the receiver. It was his
office calling: "The liner Morro Castle's afire off the
Jersey coast. May be hundreds dead. Get down to North
Beach airport right away. We'll have a plane ready for
you to hop off at daylight." Instantly Buck was alert.

102 GET THAT PICTURE

As he fairly dived into his flying equipment, he took one
glance at the window. Rain was slashing at the panes.
"Flying weather, eh? Well, maybe. . . ."

When he reached 'the airport in his car, everything was
ready. Bill Gulick, a pilot for the O. J. Whitney Flying
Service, had already warmed up his plane. They then
waited for daylight. Dawn came with hardly a break in
the weather. A misty rain was falling. They stepped
outside the hangar door and could scarcely see an object
ahead of them. Both shook their heads. Bill was game
to take a chance and go out a little distance. They started
and pretty soon were in the thick of it. Baron could barely
see the outline of the wing tip in the heavy fog and rain.
They kept on going.

The pilot had secured the approximate position of
the burning ship before he left the hangar. An accurate
judge of the distance and familiar through years of flying
with the lay of the land below him, Gulick nosed his
plane toward the Jersey shore and kept on going. There
was no going back so long as the gas held out.

Buck sniffed. There was a strong smell of smoke in
the air. They must be somewhere near the burning liner.
The pilot turned the plane in the direction from where the
smoke was drifting. Then suddenly, the mist lifted, the
clouds rolled back, and the sun came through. They had
a perfect visibility from an altitude of 500 feet. There,
not a half mile away was the ill-fated ship spouting flames
and smoke.

They circled the Morro Castle, and Baron obtained
about twelve shots in less than six minutes. They came
down to about deck level of the burning ship for a few
closeups. They could see a handful of persons clustered
on the bow of the ship, waving frantically to them. A
half-filled lifeboat was pulling away. They were grieved
that they could not aid in the rescue, but they realized
they were helpless. Two passenger ships and an oil tanker

GET THAT PICTURE 103

nearby was a welcome sight. Buck asked Gulick to nose
down so that he could get a fairly good closeup. The heat
was intense and the smoke nearly choked them. Several
times they almost went into a spin, but Gulick's able pilot-
ing kept the plane going over and round the ship until
Buck had used all his plates. Then they turned north-
ward.

The return trip was more dangerous. The fog had
returned, and with it a squall with rain. The weather
was getting worse each minute. They figured the best
thing to. do was to fly as low as possible and follow the
shore. Many times they fairly skimmed the waves. A
crash seemed inevitable, but, finally, with sighs of relief,
they sighted the houses in the vicinity of North Beach air-
port. They came down to a safe landing.

At the airport Baron learned that a half dozen planes
had tried to take to the air but were forced to return. It
meant that his pictures were exclusive. An hour later the
prints were rolling off the ferrotyped machines to be rushed
to newspapers all over the country. It was fully an hour
after that before another plane with photographer flew
over the ship. It was one of the finest picture scoops in
history.

Later, Baron's thrilling pictures were introduced at the
inquiry into the disaster. His outstanding shot, the one
showing flames and smoke rolling upward from bow to
stern, won him the National Headliners Award for the
best news photograph of the year.

Any moment of the day or night may bring a flash of
another story like the Morro Castle fire, the Argonaut
mine disaster, a strike riot, a train wreck, an explosion.
Everywhere the men with the cameras are prepared for
the dangers, the thrills, the privations. They seek no
acclaim, want no special awards. They will modestly tell
you: "It's just part of the day's work!"

Chapter Vll.
THE CAMERAMAN ON THE JOB

The news photographer "writes" the story with his
camera, jotting down the facts with the pressing of the but-
ton on his speed gun or the release of the shutter. He
manipulates his "pencil" of light and shadow with the same
agility that the reporter records the event, and the moment
he lifts his film from the fixative, ready for washing and dry-
ing, is comparable to the moment the reporter affixes his
"30", marking the end of the story.

The cameraman must have the "eye for news" as well
as the "nose for news," but the eye must have the assistance
of the perfect equipment. The cameras which have been
found to be the most practicable for press work are the
Graflex and the Speed Graphic.

Compact and sturdily built, and able to register as high
as i/ioooth of a second with their anistigmatic lenses, these
cameras have been found most suitable to withstand the
wear and tear of frequent usage, and the ability to stop the
fastest speed of the racing automobile and the plane in flight.

These cameras are equippd with adjustable lens boards
for the substitution of long and short focus lenses, and wire
finders to sight the picture. Flash speed guns perfectly
synchronized to the shutters for a speed up to i/2OOth of a
second enable the cameramen to snap their pictures more
handily and speedily when the use of the flash bulb is re-
quired. The Graphic with an £3.5 or £4.5 lens is the
camera used for the everyday assignment. It has a spring
back for the insertion of the plateholder which eliminates
the necessity of removing the ground glass and enables the
photographer to change holders quickly without waste of

^) Acme Newspictures

SURGEON OPERATES UPON SELF

Dr. Evan O'Neill Kane of Kane, Pennsylvania, is shown in this unusual
photograph as he operated upon himself for inguinal hernia. A local anaes-
thetic was used and Dr. Kane chatted and laughed throughout the operation.
In 1921 Dr. Kane startled the medical world by removing his own appendix.

(P) Wide World Photos
AN HISTORIC BIRTH

The first picture of the quintuplets born to Mrs. Olivia Dionne as she lay

recovering in her backwoods home near Callander, Ontario, Canada, with the

tiny forms, weighing together only six pounds, six ounces, by her side. They

have grown into five plump, rosy- cheeked girls.

HE REACHED FOR A SMOKE INSTEAD OF THE RIP

Harold Parkhurst, Rosedale, Long- Island, daredevil, nonchalantly lights a

cigarette while falling- from an altitude of 5000 feet, from a plane flown by

Chick Soule. This thrilling picture was snapped by Harry Knapp from

another plane flown by Alfred Bragos.

GET THAT PICTURE 1 05

time. The Graflex, an excellent reflecting camera and built
for speed, is used in covering many sport events as prize
fights, football, baseball and hockey games. The Graflex,
with a 20 and 28 inch focal length lens, is heavier and stock-
ier than the Graphic, and is termed "Big Bertha" by the
cameraman. Though a bit cumbersome, it is ideal for the
sports event.

Before the photographer goes out on an assignment, he
goes over his camera to see that everything is working prop-
erly. There must be no chance of a breakdown during the
coverage of a story; the lens is clean and tightly screwed on,
the shutter-adjustments are accurate, the tension spring
works properly, and the position of the speed gun shutter-
relay is correct. The news cameraman watches and guards
his equipment with the care and attention of a parent for
its child.

When the holders are loaded with either film or plates,
the photographer dusts them so that no particles of dirt will
cling to the emulsion causing pin-hole marks. The speed
gun is tested frequently to see that the synchronization is
perfect.

With the camera in perfect condition, holders freshly
loaded with either Orthochromatic or Panchromatic film or
plates, plenty of flash bulbs, and the light but sturdy tripod
packed in his case, the news photographer is ready for come
what may.

The editor calls him over to the desk and tells him that
Myrna Loy is arriving on the Twentieth Century train.
Hollywood actresses are always good copy. The camera-
man saunters over to the railroad station. The publicity
man from the studio who employs Miss Loy is on hand,
and he informs the cameramen the name and number of the
Pullman car in which she is riding. Miss Loy catches sight
of the photographers and smiles as she stands on the step
about to put one pretty foot on the platform. The lighting

106 GET THAT PICTURE

conditions are fairly poor, so the cameramen use their speed
guns. In a trice, the boys have adjusted their scales, and
shutters, sighted her through the view finders, and off go the
flashes. The newspaper reproductions that afternoon will
show her smiling, framed by the pullman car door. At one
glance, the readers will know that she is arriving by train.
The picture will have immediately told the story.

There is a simple, but urgent, lesson taught by this
routine assignment. The cameramen knew instinctively that
they must give their picture locale or setting. Part of the
train had to show in the picture. On another occasion,
similar to this, they may vary the picture with a pullman
porter assisting her off the train, and at another time, they
may pose her sitting on a trunk amid much baggage. But
the purpose in each case is identical. Miss Loy is arriving
by train, and by no other conveyance. It is a salient point
in picture coverage to present to the reader the visual fact
that the scene or setting is just as the caption indicates.

The news value of the picture is enhanced three-fold.

An American snapped in London should be seen talking
to a policeman, or "bobby" as he is called there, caught
looking up at Westminster Abbey, or strolling through a
London street with the background clearly indicated to show
that it is London, and not the main street in. Paducah,
Kentucky. In Paris, to be seen with a gendarme or glanc-
ing at a typical Parisian kiosk plastered with French ads or
seated at a sidewalk cafe ; and so on, with the setting of the
country he is visiting as the subject's background.

When the European celebrity visits this country, the
news cameraman aims for the same type of picture. A
head and shoulder closeup of a London notable visiting
New York is of no value whatsoever to the editor of the
London Daily Mirror, if the picture has been syndicated to
England for sales purposes. The background of New York
must be shown : if he is photographed in a hotel, the camera-

GET THAT PICTURE 1 07

man snaps him glancing outside the window even though but
a blur of skyscraper is shown in the distance; or if he is
strolling Fifth Avenue, a passing bus materially aids.

The correct posing of an individual is of extreme im-
portance. The stiff, straight look ahead deadens the picture.
Even the faint semblance of a smile will enliven it, and there
must be a slight turn of the head, a sort of semi-profile to
hint that the subject is interested in other matters than the
lens of the camera.

When there are more than one person to be photo-
graphed, the subjects will be told by the cameramen to en-
gage in conversation, looking toward each other, or if seated
at a desk or table, to look slightly down at some papers on
the desk or table as if the camera had caught them off guard
in the midst of a business conversation. The picture must
have the feeling of naturalness.

In the home, the man or woman can be photographed
talking over the phone, listening to the radio, reading a
book or reclining back on the chair or sofa in a homey, re-
laxed mood, in other words, snapped in a familiar and
natural pose.

In many cases, if the person has not figured much in
the news before, and the photographer knows that there are
not many good closeups of the person in the files of his news-
paper or syndicate, he will make an extra full-face view.
In case of a future story break involving that person, it
will be perfectly useable for a one-column release. Such
one-column cuts are being constantly used by newspapers
to illustrate stories.

A picture can also be taken of a person who figures in
the action of a story, and the one illustration can convey
the whole meaning and action. A young woman of slight
build has knocked out a i9O-pound masher. The photog-
rapher asks her to crook her arm, with her fist tightly clench-

IO8 GET THAT PICTURE

ed, and look down admiringly at her biceps. This was how
she flattened her tormentor. It tells the story in a flash.

The photographer may also ask a person to rehearse a
scene in order to portray more graphically the incidents of
the story. A lad of nine, crossing a railroad track, discov-
ered a broken rail. He heard a train approaching. He ran
down the track, waving his handkerchief frantically. The
engineer saw him in time and stopped the train. The boy
became a national hero. The photographers arrived when
the boy had already returned home. They brought him
back to the track, and asked him to run toward them, wav-
ing his handkerchief. It was the best picture on the story.

The contrast of size must also be shown in the picture.
Robert Wadlow, the world's tallest man, was brought from
his home in Illinois to join the circus in New York. A
diminutive air hostess standing alongside him on his arrival
at Newark Airport emphasized his tremendous height. If
the photographer had snapped him alone the reader would
not have realized his unusual height, and could just as well
be five feet tall, so far as the picture itself would indicate.
Later he was snapped walking in Central Park. Holding
a tot of eight by the hand also emphasized his tallness.

A New England man possessed the smallest Bible in the
world. The photographer focused on the tiny book held
in the palm of a hand. The contrast of the Bible to the
size of the normal hand indicated to the reader its true
dimensions.

The person snapped in action is always the desirable
picture. A musician is photographed playing the instrument,
the radio singer in front of the microphone lifting his or her
voice in song, the blacksmith in the act of hitting his anvil,
the housewife bent over her stove, the sea captain turning
the ship's wheel, the child skating or rolling a hoop, the col-
lege youth bent over his studies, the person on the street
caught in a walking shot.

GET THAT PICTURE 109

The still object can be enlivened with the placing of a
person in the picture. The cameraman assigned to the
flower show asks a pretty girl to hold the prize bloom; a
woman studying a new aluminum pan at the Hardware
Exhibition animates the picture. Where the object in itself
is of unusual interest, as a prize winning painting, the
photographer will make a closeup with no one showing in
the picture, unless he can get the artist to pose alongside.

At times the picture editor will instruct the cameraman
to get a series of pictures on a particular subject. The one
wanted this time was the manufacture of dolls. The assign-
ment was given a month before Christmas, and the editor
was anxious to obtain an interesting series for an advance
rotogravure release.

The cameraman covered the assignment thoroughly
from the testing of the raw materials to the final shipment
of the dolls. He showed the chemist examining the mate-
rials, the dolls' heads molded and dipped in lacquer, the
workmen setting the eyes in the sockets with tweezers, the
painting of the eyebrows, lips and dimples, the attachment
of the heads to the bodies, a woman worker sewing a mohair
wig onto a buckram cap, the apparel placed on the nude
dolls in the assembly room, and then the final packing and
shipping.

A lone picture on this subject would have meant little or
nothing; the series of eight or ten pictures was a complete
series, and told the story in perfect sequence.

At the Hairdressing Show and the Shoe Manufacturers'
Convention the photographer will get the layout of the
latest coiffures and the newest shoe models. Two or three
of the most striking hair twists and patterned footgear will
suffice on a coverage of these kinds. Closeups of the girls'
heads turned to show the full effect of the latest coiffure and
just a glimpse of the ankles with the full showing of the
shoes are all that are needed by the photographer.

HO GET THAT PICTURE

It is a warm Spring day. The photographer has been
told to get a layout of Spring pictures. The picture editor
may give him some suggestions, but usually the cameraman
will have the pictures he wants fixed firmly in his mind the
minute he leaves the office. He will turn to the park, make
shots of the children roller-skating or sailing their boats on
the pond, snap a couple of vagrants on a bench warming
themselves in the sun, saunter into the Zoo and snap the
crane on the green stretching her feathers, stroll over to the
poorer Ninth Avenue district and photograph the kids play-
ing ball in the street and the housewives sitting on the stoops
for a moment of fresh air and a temporary escape from the
hot, stuffy kitchens. On his return to the office, he will
shoot a sidewalk cafe, a row of bootblacks polishing the
shoes of coatless men, and a bock beer sign on a saloon
window — all the signs of Spring that stir the big city to the
awakening of the season.

The news cameraman covering the ever-colorful and
ever-stirring scenes of the big city has through years of ex-
perience, and the application of a keen sense for the news
coupled with a lively imagination been able to cover any
type of assignment. He always strives for the different,
the unusual, shifts and varies his attacks in his effort to es-
cape from the sameness and the stereotyped. He is given a
wide latitude in the semi-news and feature assignments, and
he thrills as much in getting an unusual feature picture as
he does in obtaining a scoop on a big news event. The artist
in him ever struggles for expression.

The news is combined with the feature material for the
cameraman who covers the arrival and departure of the
ocean liners. When the ships come in, bearing their
notables, Americans returning from vacations abroad and
Europeans of note arriving for a visit, the news cameraman
is among the first to greet them. Bearing a special pass
which is non-transferable, the photographer boards the

GET THAT PICTURE III

revenue cutter at the Battery in New York and is taken to
Quarantine. Up a narrow ladder he climbs to get aboard
the ship. On occasion, the line's publicity man will greet
the cameramen and assist them in selecting the passengers to
be photographed. With the New York skyline as a back-
ground, the cameramen will line their subjects against the
top deck rail, some waving their hands, others pointing or
looking toward the distant skyscrapers, and then obtain
the piquant shot of the pretty young lady with the exposed
knee.

The ship news photographer deals with well known
names. Therefore, he must be considerate, quietly persuas-
ive, and strictly the gentleman. It is not entirely the height
of good style to shout: uHey, Queenie, look this way!" as
a photographer did when posing Queen Marie of Rumania
on her arrival in this country some years ago. The breaches
of good taste are rare these days. As a result, all celebri-
ties, with very few exceptions, will gladly accommodate the
photographer.

There are many stories below deck, too. A six year
old child traveling alone from her home in Poland to be met
by relatives in Pittsburgh, an Esthonian who is traveling
here to meet his brother whom he has not seen for 50 years,
a Dutch bride and groom in their native costumes, all make
good copy for both reporter and cameraman.

The photographer will have learned from his editor
that the ship had battled a terrific storm while in midocean
or gone to the rescue of a sinking ship. Some liners will
carry their own photographers and darkrooms, and the news
man will obtain prints showing the mountainous waves bat-
tering the liner or the rescue of the crew in distress. At
other times, he will press inquiry among the passengers who
may have obtained the pictures with their personal cameras,
and secure a roll of unexposed film upon payment. The
possibilities of good pictures on an incoming liner are many,

112 GET THAT PICTURE

and the cameraman is keenly alert from the moment he
boards the ship at Quarantine until he leaves it upon dock-
ing at its Manhattan pier.

Society news occupies an important space in the news-
paper page, and as a result the editor is anxious to obtain
pictures of debutante and dowager at the lawn party, the
fall hunt meet, the hotel luncheon, the costume ball and
vacationing at Palm Beach, Newport and Southampton.
The society wedding will find a battery of cameramen stand-
ing outside the church doorway waiting for the appearance
of the bride and groom after the ceremony.

Arrangements for the appearance of the photographer
at a society event are made a day or more in advance. Per-
mission is generally granted. The experienced society
photographer knows the leading matrons and debutantes on
first glance, and so he will quietly mingle among the guests
taking the shots he wants as they stroll or stop for a
moment of conversation. He takes full-length shots. The
public is interested in what society is wearing, and the
cameraman, by polite inquiry, will learn the material and
style of the dress, suit and hat, and the name of the fur
flung around her shoulders. The fashion description makes
the caption complete.

The field of sports offers the cameraman a constant suc-
cession of thrills and action.

Some of the most vivid and stirring pictures taken by
news cameramen have found their way into the sports pages :
the knockout blow at the prize fight, the wrestler's face
twisted in distortion as his opponent grips him in a deadly
hold, the ball player's slide into home on a steal from
third, the speed boat churning the water into a milky froth,
the steeplechaser taking a nasty spill, the neck to neck finish
in the horse race, the save by the goalie in the hockey game,
the mile runner breaking the tape for a new world's record,

GET THAT PICTURE 113

the racing automobile swerving at the turn and crashing
through the fence.

It is a championship fight. From the moment the gong
sounds, the cameraman on the high stand overlooking the
lighted ring, keeps his head lowered into the hood of his
Graflex, keeping his eyes glued on the mirror reflecting
every action of the fighters. Down goes the camera curtain
as the fighter gets a right to the jaw. The blow has been
registered. Another good action, the camera clicks again.
The magazine has been exposed. Sturdy twine is wrapped
around it, and down it goes into the upraised hands of a
boy who rushes it to the gate entrance. It is handed over
to a waiting motorcycle rider who is off in a cloud of dust
rushing it back to the office. Within a half hour or less,
according to the distance of the arena from the office, the
plates are already in the developer. Shortly thereafter,
plane, train and wire transmission will carry the pictures to
the world's far corners.

When covering championship fights, newspapers and
syndicates use every strategy to get the plates back to the
office in fastest possible time. At one time, an ambulance
clanging its way through the city streets was actually convey-
ing a darkroom and the "patients" were excited syndicate
employees developing the plates; on another occasion, a
changing bag in a motorcycle with sidecar was speeding
the developing of the pictures.

The photographers leaving the Dempsey-Carpentier
fight at Boyle's Thirty Acres in Jersey City some years ago
were faced with a dilemma. Motorcycle men stationed at
the entrances were awaiting the plates, but the cameramen
could not get through the jam. One photographer used
his wits to score a scoop. He kicked through a plank of the
arena's pine floor, and dropped through into a sea of mud.
Splashing his way through the darkness, he reached the
outer rim of the arena. There he kicked through another

114 GET THAT PICTURE

panel, emerging not far from the entrance, and in a jiffy was
in a speeding car enroute to his office, the first news camera-
man to reach Newspaper Row with the pictures of the
knockout blow.

The same excitement that attends a championship fight
is present at a World Series baseball game. Several camera-
men will watch for the closeup action at first and third base,
while several more will be in the stands with their telephoto
lenses. The action at home plate is carefully watched. Click
go a score of cameras when the player rounds home after
lifting a four-bagger into the stands, or the slide into home
en another player's sacrifice hit. From the moment the first
ticket purchaser lines up at the window in the wee hours of
the morning the cameraman is kept continually on the go:
the players warming up, the rival managers, the bleacherites,
the notables in the stands.

There is one picture the public has never seen: the
players in the dressing room before the game. The man-
agers are set against it for there is a belief that the players
will meet defeat if they allow themselves to be caught by the
cameras in the dressing rooms. Managers of teams who are
about to clinch a pennant will not allow a group picture to
be made until the pennant has actually been won. Super-
stition again — but what can you do with fellows who believe
so thoroughly in rabbit feet, elephant charms, and other
talismans.

The football game offers a more difficult problem to the
cameraman. Instead of concentrating on a given spot as
first and third bases in baseball, and the limited space in
boxing, he must keep the ever moving mass formations con-
stantly within range of his camera. He must also be con-
versant with the various plays, and shoot at the exact
moment as a player is off for an end run, a plunge through
scrimmage, the start and finish of a forward pass. He is
faced with changing light conditions and adjusts his speeds

GET THAT PICTURE 115

accordingly. Poor weather does not stop the game, and
the cameraman stands his ground on a sideline as rain and
sleet batter his face, and driving snow almost blinds him.
There is no retreat: he sticks until the final whistle ends the
game in the gathering dusk of a late Fall afternoon. Many
a deciding play has been made in the last few minutes of the
game.

At the track meet, the click of the camera is like the
staccatic burst of machine gun fire. Event follows event in
rapid succession, and the cameraman is ever on the move,
snapping the pole vaulter going over, the shotputter in ac-
tion, the loo-yard dashers flashing across the tape in a light-
ning burst of speed, the milers swinging around the first
turn, the hurdlers going over the obstacles in a perfect
rhythm and motion of arms and legs. Some news camera-
men have been known to take as many as seventy pictures
at one day's events such as the Penn Relays in Franklin
Field, Philadelphia.

In horse racing the cameraman tries for the thrilling
drive toward the finish line and is ever on the alert for the
spill. Generally he works from the judge's stand or the
outside rail. One of the most unusual head-on shots was
taken by Charles Brinkman, when he was employed by the
Pacific and Atlantic Photos syndicate. He crawled under
the fence, flung himself face down in the turf, and turned his
camera up toward the charging horses, drawing himself
back in time to miss the flying hoofs by inches. It was
quite foolhardy, but he got an unusual shot. The race stew-
ards later put a ban on such attempts. A horse shied, spill-
ing its rider, when he saw a cameraman leaning from under
the rail. It was too risky a venture for cameramen, jockeys
and horses.

In every form of sport the cameraman watches for the
crucial moment of play : at the tennis game he strives for the
closeup of the player connecting with the ball, and often gets

Il6 GET THAT PICTURE

the unusual shot of the ball in midair or seemingly glued to
the racquet at the moment of contact; working from the
sidelines at the polo match with his eleven inch lens, he gets
the charging rider with swinging mallet, and at the soccer
game, the player leaping into the air as his head bounces the
ball back into play. Every second of play must be watched,
and the photographer is a tense bundle of nerves and concen-
tration from the minute the referee or umpire signals the
start of the game.

The same photographer who covered the sports story
may be called upon the same day to cover the fire, the acci-
dent, the crime. These big news stories can be safely placed
in one category. The cameraman knows that there are
certain shots to be made to cover the story fully. Speed on
such events is most essential, and so he clips time with his
split-second shots to rush back to the office with the essentials.
He follows a fairly well-set procedure in big news coverage.

Stepping carefully over twisted hose, plunging through
pools of water, he will train his camera on the firemen pour-
ing streams on the flames, get several shots of the smoke
billowing from the roof and windows, then dash over to get
a picture of the fi**e chief directing the battle. There may be
a back draught and firemen may be tumbled to the ground;
he will rush to get his shots of the injured being treated by
the ambulance surgeon. To get the general view he will
climb atop the roof of a neighboring building. On a four
or five alarm fire, a boy will have accompanied him, and he
will send the lad scampering back with the first few shots.
If the fire starting from an inconsequential blaze sweeps to
intensity, and no boy will have accompanied him to the
scene, he will rush to the nearest taxi driver to give him the
first plates for a speedy trip to the office. When the fire will
have died down, he will focus his camera on the smouldering
ruins, and, if permission is granted, will accompany the fire-
men into the building to make interior shots.

GET THAT PICTURE 117

Night views of fires are more difficult, and the spread
pans to give a more intense light than the flash bulbs are
brought into play. The pouring of the magnesium powder
onto the pans is a risky procedure. Great care should be
taken that the powder bottle is securely corked after pour-
ing as a flying spark from the fire may fall into it and cause
a violent explosion. Many news photographers have been
seriously injured by the exploding of the powder in the
bottle or on the pan before the cameraman was set to release
the trigger.

In the early days of news photography, before the intro-
duction of the spread pan, the cameraman covering the night
fire would follow a still more dangerous routine. He
would set up his camera on tripod on a neighboring roof.
An assistant would pour the powder into the rain gutter
near the edge of the roof, throw a flaming stick into it from
a distance, and then run. Sometimes the force of the ex-
plosion would tear the edge of the roof away, and both
cameraman and assistant would have to make a hasty flight
lest the owner catch them. But, invariably, the cameraman
first got his picture !

A murder story breaks. The scene of the crime is an
uptown apartment house. The cameraman will start at
once for the scene. He is notified by the police officials that
the husband of the slain woman is on his way from his
office. As he steps from the taxi, a battery of cameramen
pull their flashes. The janitor has been questioned, and the
boys will be allowed to take his picture. The routine covers
the questioning of other persons. Sometimes the cameramen
will be forced to stay outside the building, while on other
murder stories be permitted to occupy a nearby room or
stay in an outer hallway. Days may pass before the news
photographers are allowed inside to make pictures of the
room.

The cameraman never leaves the scene of the story until

Il8 GET THAT PICTURE

he is relieved by another photographer, and must keep in
constant touch with the office to advise or be advised of
further developments. A break in the story may come at
any moment.

Another photographer will have been dispatched to the
nearest police station. He awaits there the arrival of sus-
pects or witnesses held for further questioning, or the distri-
bution of pictures of the victim or suspects by the police.

Evidence is sent to Police Headquarters, and so another
cameraman is sent there. One of the most important pic-
tures in the recent Titterton murder case in New York was
a closeup of a strand of upholsterer's twine found on the
scene of the crime. This lone clue later led to the appre-
hension of the murderer.

The cameraman on a crime story must not overlook any
possible picture. Hours may pass after a crime is discov-
ered before further witnesses are questioned or evidence
revealed, but the photographer must be patient, and have
his ears and eyes wide open for any new turn or break in
developments.

On a riot story the cameraman will have to have the
agility of a cat and the fleetness of a doe to get the desired
shots. Here is a policeman battering a rioter's head with
his night stick; a quick turn of the head, and he sees a detec-
tive in grips with another civilian; look out, a mounted
policeman is heading in his direction, and the photographer
steps away in the nick of time. Over there, the crowd is
breaking and running, and the cameraman trains his box in
that direction. A yell of warning, he ducks his head in time
to escape a flying brick. The sight of the police card stuck
in the band of his hat may sometime mean nothing to the
enraged police and crowd, and he becomes involved in the
melee as a target from both sides. He must be careful that
the surging crowd does not crush him and his camera to the
ground. The photographer cares little that he suffers a few

GET THAT PICTURE 119

bruises and cuts, or tears in his clothing, so long as his
equipment is intact. He does not want to miss a good shot
of the battle.

Photography from the air has stirred the imagination
of the news photographer from the earliest days of the
profession, and he finds it a keen, exciting adventure.

Jimmy Hare, soldier of fortune and photographer, took
the first air view of Manhattan from a free balloon in 1906.
But his success was not crowned with easy effort. For a
week the balloonist and Hare rested on Staten Island wait-
ing for a favorable wind. At last the day came, and up
they went. Suddenly the breeze died down to a mere fan-
wave, and the balloon could not rise further. Hare's quick
wits found a solution. He pitched the balloonist' s overcoat
and his own overboard. It helped a little, but not much.
Then went Hare's extra plates and holders over the side.
The balloon lifted higher, and Hare took his picture. Later,
he took the first photograph from an airplane in this country
on a short flight from Fort Sam Houston at San Antonio,
Texas.

Today, taking pictures from the air is a daily occurrence.
With his hands firmly locked on the side handles of the
aerial camera, the photographer will order the pilot to cut
and bank, while he gets his desired shot, a forest fire, a burn-
ing arsenal, a ship in flames at sea or breaking up on the
rocks, a dirigible floating in the distance, a formation of
Army planes zooming by, an airview of a city, a shot of a
country estate or plane wreckage high up on a mountainside.

The cameraman may have to fly through fog and mist
and cloud, rain and sleet and snow, to get his picture, but
there is nary a thought of danger or disaster in his mind
when he boards the plane. He will sometimes wear inade-
quate clothing but he would rather freeze than order the
pilot to return. Airsickness may make him deathly weak,
but he will quiet trembly hands and limbs to focus sharply

120 GET THAT PICTURE

on the scene. The coolness, daring and loyalty of the flying
photographer is summed up in the experience of the camera-
man who was tumbled out of the plane when it was forced
to land on a rocky terrain, turning over when it nosed into
a stone wall. The photographer's first words on scrambling
to his feet were : "Wonder if there's a nearby farmhouse, so
I can phone the office."

NABBING A TEXAS OUTLAW AND HIS WIFE

While his wife struggles with officers at the left, Marvin Barrow, member
of a gang- of Texas outlaws, sinks to the ground, at right, after being shot
in gun battle with the posse near Dexter, Iowa. Other members of the gang
escaped after the battle in which machine guns, .rifles and pistols blazed.
The cameraman was just as quick with his camera as the police with their
guns to make this unusual picture the moment the posse closed in.

(r) International News Photos

FALLING TO HIS DEATH

A split-second shot of a tragedy — the automobile turning over throwing out
Mfss May Cuncliffe, English auto racer, and her father, during a 100-mile
race held at Southport Sands, England. An instant later he was pinned

beneath the car and killed.

The zero hour, and the American doughboys clamber over the top from their
front line trench somewhere in France during the World War. Note the
soldier thumbing his nose at the enemy. The Signal Corps photographers
were right up at the front to snap scenes such as this, and many were killed

and wounded.

IN THE THICK OF THE BATTLE

The war photographer plunged ahead with the front line troops to make this
striking picture of American doughboys, Third Infantry gunners, firing
37 mm. shells during an advance against German entrenched positions in

northern France.

Chapter Fill.
THE CAMERAMAN COVERS THE DAILY EVENT

EVERY news picture tells a story, and behind that, lies the
hand that guides the camera, the eye that envisions the scene
and the mind that grasps the news fundamentals with an
unerring precision — the perfect coordination that lifts the
news cameraman from the mere picture-taker to the expert
recorder of life on a camera plate.

The art of news photography is much more than the
pressing of a cable release, the adjusting of scales and
shutters and the sighting of an object through a view finder.
It is the ability of the news cameraman to go beyond the
mechanics of exact procedure, and feel, sense and record
the story with the vividness of the news gatherer.

Each story presents a different problem, a different
attack. The news cameraman brushes aside all difficulties,
and overcomes all obstacles. He reaches the zenith of his
career after years of tilting with the exciting, the thrilling,
and even the prosaic.

Not every story is a shipwreck, five-alarm fire or plane
disaster. He follows life in its true course, the moments
and incidents that are drab and dull. His daily assign-
ments follow the uninteresting routine of club meetings
and dinners and cornerstone layings. They may be thank-
less jobs, but he accepts them all willingly. It is not for
him to choose, it is for him to do his duty and do it well.

From the moment he leaves the office with his camera
case in hand, he has one fact etched clearly in his mind.
He must bring back the picture. There is no such word
as failure. He will have seen to it that his case is packed
with the essentials, his sturdy, compact 4x5 Speed Graphic,

122 GET THAT PICTURE

a dozen holders loaded with fast emulsion films, a dozen
flash bulbs, a speed gun accurately synchronized, a tripod
with a Crown head. His films and holders will have been
properly numbered, his camera will have been gone over
that there is no loose screw and part. The story has been
given to him by the editor. He sallies forth into the un-
known.

If it is a club meeting or the laying of a cornerstone
set for a certain hour, he will take his leisurely time, pro-
viding, however, he arrives there a few minutes ahead of
schedule, so that he can present his proper credentials,
make his introductions to the right persons in charge, learn
who is present, and with a sweep of his eye take in the
scene which he will photograph. He then opens his case,
withdraws and sets his camera, gets his focusing distance.
Let the meeting or the ceremonies begin. He is ready!

If it is an accident or disaster, he knows that speed
is necessary; every second counts. He will hop into a
taxi and order the driver to make the fastest possible time.
He knows that his camera will record only what is before
it. He wants to reach the scene before the fire dies down
or the accident victim is carried away. It may be broad
daylight or raining heavily, he knows what speed he will
shoot, what aperture opening he will set; his camera is
ready in his hand all set to shoot the moment he arrives
at the scene of the story.

On a story of this type, his job is a bit more exciting
than his brother reporter. The latter can arrive there too
late, but it will not make much difference. He can get his
story from the eyewitnesses or police remaining on the
scene, or can get the information he desires from other
reporters. It makes no difference to him that the fire has
been extinguished or the injured persons have been rushed
to the hospital. He will have been told all the details which
in a moment can be phoned to a rewrite man at the office.

GET THAT PICTURE

But not so with the cameraman. It is necessary that his
camera record all the details : the fire at its height, firemen
pouring water on the blaze, the rescue of the victims, or
at the street accident, the ambulance surgeon bending over
the victim or lifting him onto a stretcher to be rushed to
the hospital.

Many unusual photographs on such stories have been
taken by the Johnny-on-the-spot cameraman, and such pic-
tures live in the memory of the readers. Who will ever
forget the picture that appeared in the New York Daily
News showing the form of a dead woman lying on the
pavement of a narrow Brooklyn street awaiting the arrival
of the ambulance to carry it away as the husband in the
foreground sags broken-heartedly against the wall of a
building looking toward his mate, gone forever, the victim
of an automobile accident? Or that shot taken at a tene-
ment house fire showing two victims, clad in their night
clothes, rushing into the house of a neighbor, one looking
back with horror on her face at the flames destroying her
flat?

These are the pictures that send a thrill through the
office, from managing editor to copy boy, with cries of
exultation: "It's a beaut'!" "It's great!" "Some pic-
ture !", leaping from the throats of every employe from the
moment the darkroom printer holds the plate up to the red
light in the developing room. It is like the discovery of
gold in the prospector's pan, the uncovering of some an-
cient ruins by the archaeologist, the scaling of the peak by
the mountain climber, it is the cry of "Eureka!" on the
finding of a treasure! But it is no sinecure, no chance
stumbling, no Lady Luck to guide the way; it's by dint of
hard, conscientious work, day in and day out that brings
a golden moment of achievement to the news cameraman.

The faculties of the news photographer are ever alert
to the picture possibilities. He can sense the story, the pic-

124 GET THAT PICTURE

ture, whatever or wherever it is. One day, a photographer
was on his way to an assignment in downtown New York.
Waiting on the corner for the traffic light to shift from
red to green, he saw a cat gripping a kitten in its mouth
start across Broadway. The traffic policeman saw them,
too, and up went his hand in a flash to stop traffic. The
photographer leaped into the middle of the street, and
in a few seconds had his camera trained on the cat, the
traffic cop with arm upraised, the automobiles brought to
a standstill. The result was one of the greatest pictures
ever made. The syndicate, which later secured the nega-
tive for its files, is still selling hundreds of prints, and
the photograph has been reproduced in every part of the
world. It took less than a minute for the cat to cross the
street. Had the photographer just hesitated for a second
he would have been too late, and the golden chance would
have been lost forever.

On another occasion, the news cameraman, through in-
stant action, recorded another epic of the camera. A few
photographers were shooting pictures of Columbus Day
exercises at Columbus Circle in New York when a distant
shot rang out. All but William Eckenberg, a Wide World
cameraman, thought it was the backfire of an automobile.
He immediately turned and ran toward the direction of
the firing. It was about a block down the street. When
he reached there a huge crowd had already gathered around
the prostrate form of a thug who had been shot down by
a policeman. Pushing through the crowd, Eckenberg
reached the open circle where the man lay groaning, with
hands pressed on stomach, and a girl holding his head in
her lap. The policeman was waiting for the ambulance
to rush him to the hospital. Eckenberg got his pictures,
and pushed his way back to the rim of the crowd just as
the other photographers arrived. But they could not
squeeze through, the jam had become too thick by this

GET THAT PICTURE 125

time, and they had to be content scrambling up to the
second floor of a nearby building to get some shots which
showed mostly the heads of the crowd. Quick decision had
given Eckenberg a news triumph of the camera.

Coolness in any emergency is also another requisite of
the news photographer, and it may take years and years
of training for the cameraman to keep his eyes and hands
and nerves steady at the critical moment. It may not be
funk, but just a bad case of stage fright, which will place
the beginner in an awkward situation.

A youthful cameraman, who had just entered the em-
ploy of a syndicate a few months previous, had his camera
set on tripod making a general view of a building near
Broad and Wall Streets in New York when a terrible
explosion rocked the whole neighborhood. With his arms
circled around the camera and tripod the photographer
managed to save them from falling. Further down the
street cries of the injured filled the air. A truck filled with
dynamite had exploded directly in front of the Morgan
offices. Shattered glass filled the street. Dozens of bodies
lay sprawled on the sidewalks. The cameraman moved
forward to take some pictures, but he was trembling from
head to foot. Nervously he shoved holders in and out.
He was the only cameraman on the scene and it was fully
a half hour before a score of other news men appeared.
He then ran to the drug store and phoned his office de-
scribing the scene and told the excited editor that he had
taken some pictures. He rushed back. Out of his dark-
room came a half dozen plates, but not an image on a
single one. In his nervousness and excitement he had for-
gotten to do something, he himself did not know. He
slumped; his chance of a lifetime had come and gone. An
experienced cameraman would have stood the shock of the
catastrophe and coolly gone about his job of taking the

126 GET THAT PICTURE

pictures. Those are the moments when the photographer
is put to the iron test.

Imagine the moment when Tom Howard, Chicago Tri-
bune and New York News photographer, was called upon
to shoot the picture of the execution of Ruth Snyder at
Sing Sing prison, the first time a picture was ever taken
there of an electrocution. It is a test which will even shatter
the nerves of the hardest of cameramen. But Howard had
to go through with it. It was an assignment; it was his job
to take the picture.

It was all pre-arranged for the reporter in front to
move his legs so that Howard could focus on the chair with
his tiny camera strapped to his ankle and connected by bulb
resting in his pocket. It was all guess focus, and Howard
pressed his bulb four times, as much as he could possibly
make without exciting the suspicions of the guards. Though
his whole body quivered and shook, he remained outwardly
calm. There could be no misfire, and he steeled himself
to rigidity the instant he pressed the bulb. The slightest
motion of his body would have thrown the pictures entirely
out of focus.

Only until he reached the News darkroom and thrown
the films into the developer, did he relax, though his body
still shook like a leaf. But the ordeal still was not over.
The first film lifted to the front of the red light showed
only the feet, the second was a blank, the third also showed
the feet but more of the body occupying a corner of the
negative, and the fourth was the shot, slightly out of focus,
but retouchable and useable. The men in the darkroom
let out a whoop. The job was done. The picture was,
and still is, a sensation of the news world.

Whatever the ethics of the case may be, it is not for
the cameraman to question. The News defended their
picture; others attacked it. It was not for Howard to

GET THAT PICTURE 127

argue, pro or con. He was simply told to cover the story,
and he did.

The public has been too often presented with the picture
of the cameraman, by medium of film or story, as a brusque
individual who dashes into bedrooms to snatch photographs
from bureau drawers and walls, or rummage through the
pockets of a victim for his likeness. There may have been
a few instances of the like in the early days of catch-as-
catch-can and hurly-burly journalism, when cameramen
sniffed scornfully at the word ethics. Those were the raw,
rough days when the tabloids and others of a sensational
tinge were jockeying for position in the race for circulation.
The years, however, have chastened the editors; with cir-
culation and security won, the papers have settled down
into a state of fair respectability, and the cameraman no
longer strikes terror into the hearts of his subjects.

The cameraman today still yearns and strives to get
the picture on the story, but he will not violate the fine
rules and ethics of good journalism that hold in the city
room. The public no longer shies at his presence; the
majority of persons will gladly assist the gentlemanly
cameraman, and the police have learned to cooperate as
they seldom did in the past. A picture of a criminal is
wanted: the headquarters will kindly release a rogues gal-
lery shot; a new picture is wanted after an arrest, the boys
will be allowed into an anteroom to allow them to make
the shot of the prisoner being questioned by the district
attorney or held between detectives before he is led back
to further questioning or thrown into a cell.

There is no longer the need to follow the tactics of the
early Park Row photographer who was assigned to get
pictures of a man accused of a fiendish crime on Long
Island. The keeper of the jail had barred the photographer
from the building, saying the prisoner was very weak. Hang-
ing around until after dark, the cameraman borrowed a

128 GET THAT PICTURE

crowbar from a neighboring blacksmith shop, climbed on
a roof and attacked the barred window. He located the
cell where the half-conscious prisoner was stretched out on
a cot, broke in and set off a flash of the accused man. The
cameraman then made his getaway.

Today there is cooperation all along the line. Detec-
tives on a major crime story will often gather in pictures
of the victim, and if there are enough copies, will distribute
them, or if there is only a single shot, will allow the camera-
men to make copies then and there. Judges, too, at court
trials, will set aside a special place for the cameramen, or
allow pictures of witnesses to be taken in anterooms. Pic-
tures may also be allowed to be taken between sessions, say
at the noon hour or after the testimony has been finished
for the day.

In the Loeb-Leopold murder trial in Chicago in 1924,
the presiding judge allowed photographs to be taken at the
noon session. At the Hall-Mills murder trial in Somerville,
N. J., in 1926, Justice Cleary laid down a rule limiting
pictures to be taken from the sides of the room, and at
the trial of Bruno Hauptmann for the kidnaping and mur-
der of the Lindbergh baby, in Flemington, N. J., in 1935,
two photographers were allowed in to make pictures for
release to all syndicates and newspapers.

In a murder trial at Detroit, when jurymen protested
that flashlights had prevented them hearing the evidence,
the judge said: "Please be patient. The safety of the
administration of criminal law is publicity," and the pho-
tographers remained undisturbed.

Even in France it is not unusual for special lights to
be erected to assist the cameramen to get the pictures of
the court proceedings. This was done at the trial of "Blue-
beard" Landru, who went on trial for the murder of ten
of his numerous financees, so that pictures could be taken
of the passing of the death sentence.

GET THAT PICTURE 129

Attacks on photographers are quickly settled, and con-
doned. Just recently a prisoner broke away from his guard
and felled a cameraman about to take his picture. The
guards pounced on the prisoner, striking him in the jaw,
and the cameraman was allowed to snap his shot.

When Dr. Alice Lindsay Wynekoop, defendant in a
murder trial in Chicago, fainted during the proceedings,
a photographer tried to snap the picture. A defense at-
torney hurled a three pound law book at the cameraman,
striking him in the forehead in an attempt to prevent the
picture being taken. The attorney later apologized.

The photographers today will strictly abide by the
court's decision on the privilege of taking pictures. The
Federal Courts will allow no courtroom shots; the camera-
men will make no attempt to override the edict. In Wash-
ington no pictures are allowed to be made during a Supreme
Court session.

Any other rules set down against the taking of news
photographs are closely observed. The Senate in Wash-
ington allows no pictures to be taken during any of its
sessions; the House of Representatives permits no photo-
graphs to be made on the floor when the members are con-
vened. The cameramen in the Capital will make no move
to violate the rules. Their gentlemanly conduct has re-
dounded to their benefit because where they are privileged
to make their pictures they are treated with every courtesy
and consideration.

However, a cameraman will feel that there is no abuse
of privilege or conduct when he snaps a picture of a person
who figures in the news, even though* that person may be
averse to having his or her picture taken. Justifiably, the
photographer feels that he is recording a story with his
camera and is entitled to present his camera-story for pub-
lication by the same token a reporter is privileged to present
his written material for public perusal. Just so long as he

130 GET THAT PICTURE

does not break the rule of decency and fair play in getting
his shot. He would not think of taking a picture of a
judge in an intoxicated condition or a young woman found
in a promiscuous situation.

Once a photographer at a night club snapped a picture
of a young woman, well-known to the public, engaged in
conversation with a young man. After the picture was
taken, the young lady quietly asked the cameraman not to
have the picture circulated. It might embarrass her; her
husband was away, and the public might give the picture
the wrong interpretation. The young man was a good friend
— but there was no further explaining. The cameraman
pulled his slide, snapped out the plate and deliberately
exposed it. The young woman thanked him profusely.
He had won her friendship for life, and on many occa-
sions thereafter she 'phoned him to give him tips on many
exclusive society pictures. However, he had learned his
lesson, too. Thereafter, he first begged the kind permis-
sion of persons at night clubs and society events before
setting off his flash.

Men and women who are in the public eye today are
generally not averse to having their pictures taken. Many
of them have learned it is far better to face the camera
with a pleasant smile than to duck and run and witness
themselves in newspaper reproductions in the most ludi-
crous poses.

At one time, J. P. Morgan, the mogul of finance, would
use every strategy to evade the cameraman. Caught aboard
a ship returning from Europe one day he ran toward the
photographer brandishing his cane; on another occasion,
he was caught by the flash of a speed-gun ducking behind
some palms. They were not in the least flattering. His
attitude suddenly changed when he appeared before the
Senate Munitions Committee hearing in Washington, and
allowed himself to be taken in all sorts of poses. He even

GET THAT PICTURE 131

smiled when his photograph showing a midget on his lap was
circulated far and wide.

There are still a few persons who will flee on the ap-
proach of the cameraman. Greta Garbo tries to elude
the news photographer on every occasion, and Katherine
Hepburn, the movie actress, follows suit. Miss Hepburn,
accompanied by her maid, was entering a New York theatre
one night, when she spotted a photographer training his
camera on her. She turned on her heels and fled. The
camera clicked. The following day a newspaper reproduc-
tion showed the form of the actress contorted in a flying
leap. It was far from flattering.

Rudy Vallee, the crooner of love songs, is another celeb-
rity, who tries to avoid the cameraman. In Boston, re-
cently, a battery of cameramen were awaiting his appear-
ance outside a court building. Sighting them, he turned
and fled inside, the photographers after him. Into an
elevator they went, but they were so jammed together that
they had no room to work their cameras. On leaving
at an upper floor, Rudy dashed into a closeby room and
barred the door. In hushed tones, the cameramen went
into consultation. A few minutes passed, and a heavy
hand knocked on the door. A voice announced that he
was an employee who must get into the room at once to
transact some business. The door was opened, and the
grinning photographers entered. The cameramen got
their pictures.

There are some persons who feel unusually sensitive
about their facial features or expressions. The former
Mayor John O'Brien of New York felt that his pugna-
cious jaw did not show to the best advantage in news pic-
tures, and for a long time stormed at the cameramen who
tried to get his picture. But he finally succumbed, and the
man with the fighting jaw became quite friendly to the
news photographers.

132 GET THAT PICTURE

Sinclair Lewis, the novelist, left his dinner in a New
York hotel one evening because he did not want to be
photographed while eating. "They always get you like this
— I've seen so many come out like this," he added, distorting
his face to illuminate his point. However, he needed only
to explain his objections to be accommodated. The pho-
tographers caught him in more favorable poses.

The late Senator Huey Long, the Kingfish of Louis-
iana, was an enigma to the news photographer. In New
York, whenever he visited the city, he was the gracious
soul, and the click of the camera was a familiar sound in
his hotel room. He even posed at the bar one day show-
ing how he mixed his favorite drink. In his home baliwick,
he presented the reverse, and no cameraman dared take
his picture alighting from the train or walking in the street
without fear of being attacked by one of his bodyguards.
A blow to the face and a smashed camera was the reward
reaped for many such an effort.

The late Sir Basil Zaharoff, the mystery man of mu-
nitions, did everything possible to evade the cameraman,
but the telephoto lens caught him on a few occasions dur-
ing his frequent sojourns in the French Riviera. One cam-
eraman after a long time caught up with Robert Elliot, New
York State executioner, the most elusive of persons, and a
story on Elliot will always carry the single, poor, slightly-
out-of-focus profile.

The public must realize that it is hard to avoid the
quick-trigger cameraman, and it is far better to succumb
graciously. The brandished cane or stick, or threat of
punishment and reprisal, will never intimidate the news
photographer.

In the sports field, it is mostly gracious acquiescence,
although there are a few individuals here and there who
grudgingly pose for the camera. Babe Ruth would let
out a few explosive remarks before doing his stuff for the

GET THAT PICTURE 133

photographers; Big Bill Tilden, the tennis star, would
nettle the cameramen with his temperamental outbursts,
but since turning pro has become an amiable subject. Fred
Perry, former world's tennis champion, and now a pro,
has always endeared himself to the cameraman with his
kindly, gracious ways. Mike Jacobs, the sports promoter,
sees to it at all times that the photographers are given the
most courteous consideration. In his sports arena, he has
moved the cameramen into the front row seats so that they
can get their ringside shots. By far and large, the well-
known figures of the sports world have shown themselves
to be true sportsmen and women in their relations with
the men with the cameras.

The cameramen covering the White House have always
found its occupants to be very pleasant and agreeable.
Although President Wilson was a bit cold and aloof, and
President Coolidge somewhat gruff and eager to pose
his own shots, they never dissented. President Harding
made a hit with his warmth and geniality. The boys have
taken President Franklin D. Roosevelt to their hearts.
He has been found to be most attentive to their wants.
Only one incident has marred their visits to the White
House, although it was not really the fault of the camera-
men. A candid camera shot was circulated with the caption
that the President was deeply worried about his problems.
It showed his fingers pressed to his forehead. In reality
it was a reflex motion to shade his eyes from the glare of
the flashlights. Rightfully, the President was irked.

The kindliness of the President and Mrs. Roosevelt
in their relations with the press, is illustrated in the follow-
ing incident.

George Alexanderson, a Wide World photographer,
was covering the President's stay at his Hyde Park estate,
and lived with other news cameramen at a nearby Pough-
keepsie hotel. During a lull in his assignment, George

134 GET THAT PICTURE

decided to take a cooling plunge in a public pool, and while
climbing a ladder for a dive, slipped and injured his ankle.
In terrible agony, he was assisted back to the hotel. But
he was downhearted for another reason. There was to be
a picnic that afternoon arranged by the President for the
cameramen on the lawn of his home, and George decided
to go. A three-dollar pair of crutches was bought by the
boys, and he hobbled onto the lawn. Suddenly the end of
the crutch struck a hole, and he fell. The pain was excruci-
ating and he could not rise. He was carried into the
President's home, and Mrs. Roosevelt rubbed alcohol on his
ankle until the physician arrived. Comfortably tucked
into a car, he was carried back to his hotel room. An
X-ray the following morning revealed he had a broken leg.
All during his convalescence, he was the recipient of many
messages of good cheer from the Roosevelts who also saw
to it that he was well taken care of. They sent him many
large baskets of flowers.

It was a demonstration of friendliness which the camera-
men will never forget.

The settings can either be a White House office or a
lumber camp in Wisconsin, a dowager's ballroom or an
East Side tenement. The Welcome mat is stretched out
for the photographer's reception. Men will straighten
their ties and crease their pants, women will curl the loose
ends of their hair and look twice in their mirrors to see
that they have their lips and cheeks correctly rouged. The
photographer is no longer taboo. The press and the public
must be served!

Arriving at a private or public function, a press repre-
sentative or publicity man will see to it that the boys are
placed at a special guest table, the notables are picked out
and properly identified for the captions and left-to-right
positions, and ample time given to make the pictures. There
may be a slight inconvenience to other guests as the flashes

GET THAT PICTURE 135

are made or when the cameramen rush forward to make
the close-up shots. But they are used to that by now.
The cameramen make their two or three pictures needed
to cover the story and quietly retire.

Covering a fire or automobile accident, the flash of
the police card is all that is needed to give the cameramen
all the room necessary to make their pictures. The police
and fire officials are courteous to the photographers and it
is only the rare occasion when a gruff voice of a bluecoat
shuffles a cameraman back from the lines. In the majority
of hospitals the cameramen are allowed to take pictures
of injury and maternity cases providing the patient is will-
ing and is not in too serious condition to pose.

In covering stories on the property of individuals and
corporations it is necessary to get the oral or written
permission of the owners either by direct contact with the
owners or through the owners' secretaries. However, there
are many corporations which have made it a practise to keep
photographers away from their properties, especially when
there is serious property damage. When a wreck occurs,
the private subway and elevated lines in New York im-
mediately post guards to keep the cameramen away. The
same holds true with many railroad companies, steamship
lines and oil companies. But whether it seems foolish and
unreasonable, the cameraman accepts the ban graciously,
and stays away.

The proper cards of identification will permit the cam-
eraman into most places, and it is very essential that he
has them ready for display before he starts out on a story.
A special park permit will allow him to shoot his pictures
in Central Park and the Bronx Zoological Gardens in New
York; a cutter pass will enable the cameraman to board
the government tug which leaves the Battery daily to meet
the incoming ships at Quarantine; Navy, Army and Coast
Guard permits will allow the photographer to cover activi-

136 GET THAT PICTURE

ties of these branches of the Government's defense. In
some cases, the photographs of the latter have to be sub-
mitted to headquarters in Washington before they are re-
leased for publication.

In Washington the permit is the open sesame to most
places: the photographers carry about ten special passes
which are issued by the White House, the Navy, the Coast
Guard, the Army, the Treasury, the Capitol, House of
Representatives and several other branches of the govern-
ment.

The White House Photographers Association, organ-
ized in 1926, has a membership of about 70, and holds
its members to strict accounting for any violation of a gov-
ernment rule or order. The association was begun primarily
to obtain for the news photographers all the privileges and
courtesies which were being extended to other representa-
tives of the press.

The spirit of cooperation among the newspaper pho-
tographers is a fine evidence of the spirit of fair play and
sportsmanship that pervades their ranks. In New York
the Press Photographers' Association, now in existence for
many years, is an organization devoted to the recognition
and development of the rights and privileges of the news
cameraman, and with the true fraternal spirit, will assist
each other in time of need. A photographer who by chance
has arrived on a story a few minutes late, or will experi-
ence difficulty with his equipment can count on the assist-
ance of his fellow worker to get the needed picture. How-
ever, the photographer who has worked on a story alone or
obtained an exclusive picture is not required to share the
benefits of his scoop. The forces of initiative and resource-
fulness are still given wide play, and a scoop on a story
is still the desired thing.

With the fine cooperative spirit in its ranks, the agree-
able, gentlemanly approach to their subjects, the kind re-

CONSOLING DYING PANAY VICTIM

Lying amid the tall bamboo reeds on the Yangtze River bank, Sandro Sandri
Italian journalist, who suffered an abdominal wound during the bombing of
the United States gunboat Panay on December 12, 1937, is being comforted
by Luigi Barzini, a fellow Italian newspaperman, who was also on the Panay.
For hours Sandri lay there, suffering untold agonies, until aid was summoned
and he was carried with 12 other wTounded to Hohsien, five miles away. He
died the following afternoon in Hohsien's town hospital.

(T) International News Photo

THE SHIP'S GOING DOWN!

A remarkable picture of the sinking of the French transport Sontay in the
Mediterranean during the World War taken by Thomas Grant, an official
photographer with the Allied forces in Salonica. Grant was aboard the Sontay
enroute to England when the ship was struck by a torpedo fired from a
German U-boat. From a lifeboat into which he had leaped in stockinged feet
he made this striking shot. Several minutes later the boat sank.

THE PAN AY'S GRIM FAREWELL

The murky waters of the Yangtze slowly climb higher upon the stricken
United States gunboat Panay after she had fought to the last' against a
squadron of Japanese bombing planes on December 12, 1937. Survivors,
including many wounded, from amid tall reeds on the river bank, watched
the vessel slowly sink, then disappear.

BRAVELY ENDURES PATN

Chief Quartermaster John Lang of the United States gunboat Panay, whose
jaw was split open and suffered the loss of several teeth when hit by a
shell fragment during the bombing of the ship by Japanese planes on
December 12, 1937,' tries to stop flow of blood while resting on improvised
couch amid tall reeds of the Yangtze River Bank.

(Q Pictures. Inc.

A SOLDIER'S FAREWELL

Little do they know what the future holds for them as this Italian soldier
bids his wife and children good-bye before sailing from Naples on the Saturnia
to join his comrades in the war in Ethiopia — one of the most significant
pictures taken by Joseph Caneva, Associated Press photographer, during his
coverage of the African campaign.

A machine gun bullet from an Insurgent trench on the Cordoba front in
Spain finds its mark, and the Loyalist soldier tumbles to his death — one of
the most startling- pictures to come out of the Spanish war area. It was taken
by Robert Capa, a photographer who had attached himself to the Loyalist
forces. Capa and the soldier were in an isolated trench, separated from the
main body of troops. The soldier wanted to rejoin them. He clambered
out of the trench. At that instant the bullet struck him — and Capa auto-
matically snapped his camera.

THIS IS WAR— 1937 STYLE!

The Chinese baby, bleeding and blood-splattered, cries for its parents, but
they are dead, victims of t'he Japanese bombers which neatly dropped their
eggs on the North Station at Shanghai. Hundreds of Chinese refugees were
slaughtered when the planes circled the station and unloaded their cargoes
of heavy explosives.

GET THAT PICTURE 137

gard for the susceptibilities and feelings of the victim of
misfortune, the newspaper photographer has emerged from
the rough seed bed and forcing house of the early days of
picture work to be a true Knight of the Camera.

From the publisher down to the reporter and camera-
man on the street, a new tendency, a new feeling for the
rights of the individual has sprung up to earn the respect,
good-will and earnest cooperation of the public.

A recent editorial in "Editor and Publisher," the weekly
Newspaper for the Makers of Newspapers, sounded the
clarion call of the new spirit of today's journalism:

It read: "The press will and should defend its right
to full pictorial as well as literary reporting of all public
events, but it is time to pull up and reassess the value and
inherent justice of reporting and photography that invades
the family circle and cater to morbid and curious minds.
Undoubtedly they make circulation, but if they also make
intelligent readers distrust and even detest newspapers, the
net result cannot be profitable."

The publisher is heeding the call, and so is the camera-
man. There is no longer the need to think of the news
photographer as the anonymous, half-shadowy figure who
slinks and sleuths. In spite of fiction, film and fable, the
cameraman today is the brave, self-reliant, respectful person
of gentlemanly habits and appearance, who sacrifices health
and pleasure for one attainment — service and loyalty to the
press and the public.

Chapter IX.
THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHER

In peacetime, a sudden catastrophe will convulse the
world with its horror — an earthquake, a flood, a fire, an
explosion, a shipwreck — and the report of hundreds of
lives lost will stir the placid citizens to the realization that
peace has also its dangers, that life amid peace is not
so secure, after all. Flaming newspaper streamers an-
nounce the event; accounts of the story fill column after
column of news print; photographs of the catastrophe
are sought after by the editors like priceless gems — and
no expense is spared to assign the cameraman, and trans-
mit the photograph by the fastest possible means.

"To hell with the expense," a correspondent at
Managua, Nicaragua, was cabled, when the editor in New
York was told that it would cost thousands of dollars to
carry the pictures by plane from the earthquake-stricken
area. The plane made a non-stop dash through fog and
storm to land the pictures safely at a New York airport.

Within several days, the story is virtually forgotten.
The good citizens go back to their placid, routine ways,
and another period of time elapses before the world gets
another painful jab. The newspapers fill up again with
dull, routine news, and the editors bite nails, wondering
where they can dig up an important enough story to
warrant a front-page, three-column banner.

In wartime, the first stories and photographs of the
battles sicken and revolt the readers, and then, with days
passing, assume a prosaic form, so that hardened conscious-
nesses accept the blasting of cities and the destruction of
life with but an occasional "Isn't it terrible," and then
sink back to personal dimensions, its fears confined largely

GET THAT PICTURE 139

to the two-cent rise in the price of prime ribs of beef and
the delayed payment of the gas bill.

War pictures, at the time, have little effect. In fact,
the reader, surfeited, so he thinks, with war news and
scenes of troops marching, shells exploding, refugees on
the march, says: UO, let up a bit with that stuff!", and
turns the pages quickly to read Polly Prim's menus and
the baseball scores.

Throughout the World War, though thousands of war
pictures were taken, distributed, and printed, here, the
readers were scarcely impressed by the brutality of the
conflict. Stern censors behind the lines kept the revolting
scenes safe from the public gaze. A plethora of views
showing troops on the march, mothers and sisters prepar-
ing jams and knitting sweaters for the boys in the trenches,
British and French and German officials conferring on this
or that plan of attack, and of course, the cleverly prepared
propaganda to show the bestiality of the enemy to give
our entrance into the war a moral boost, deluged the
press, but they were monotonous. Let's have more base-
ball and beauty contest pictures !

It was not until long after the conflict was ended that
the world was allowed to see the uncensored stuff the war
departments unhesitatingly released — and the closeups of
bayonets sticking into soft flesh and severed arms and
legs rotting in the sun gave the world the true meaning
of war. Who made the pictures? Many were lost in
the anonomity of a private or officer, and identification
largely remains unsolved. Individual effort was merged
with the whole; the results are the work of hundreds of
cameramen, many of whom died with a bullet or shell
fragment stopping them as they plunged ahead with the
attacking troops, the cameras still clutched tightlv in their
hands.

Our own War Department has copies of war photo-
graphs for sale at the Munitions Building in Washington.

140 GET THAT PICTURE

The reader can obtain a 6l/> x 8^ inch contact print, a
single weight, gloss finish photograph for only thirty cents.
There are also enlargements from movies made in the
region of Exermont, camouflaged cameras among the
ruins in various battle areas and also pictures of a number
of the photographers themselves. Stories in connection
with their exploits? The War Department replies they
have none ! The photographer-soldier's duty was done.
Only his unidentified work remains, and his heroism is
emblazoned on the face of every photograph that is filed
in the records.

At the beginning of the world war, newspaper photog-
raphers, who had hurried over from England to get the
first shots of the German troops sweeping down through
Belgium and those of the refugees streaming ahead of the
terror, recklessly exposed themselves to danger, and there
are many stories of London cameramen, secreting small
cameras on their persons, sneaking through the German
lines in Belgium, giving the world its first pictorial evidence
of the invasion of that country. If they had been caught —
well, no doubt, it would have meant the firing squad. Then
the military stepped in. The photographer in mufti be-
came the camera-armed member of the ranks, subject to
the sternest discipline, and ordered what and what not to
make. The photographer swung his camera in and out of
a maze of orders, regulations, whizzing bullets, bursting
shells — just another soldier among the millions serving
God and country. Many a potential Steichen went crash-
ing down into a gas-choked shell hole to be stilled forever
— only an identification tag around his neck to remind the
War Department to forward a telegram to the nearest kin.

Soldiers clambering the trench tops at the zero hour,
the charge with the bayonet, the bodies littering the pitted
ground after the attack, the prisoners marched back —
there are hundreds of such pictures in the department's
files. There is one among them, a rather blurry shot, of

GET THAT PICTURE 141

a shell explosion near Sedan, France. The photographer,
Lieutenant Estop, who had automatically clicked his cam-
era, was blown to bits. Only the camera, flung to one
side, was found intact. But they are not the only out-
standing pictures to reveal the horrors of war.

One of the most stirring pictures to be brought back to
England for publication in the early days of the war
showed a Belgian woman refugee seated on the curbstone
of a small town in Belgium. She is too tired to move
forward. Only a few possessions she managed to save
from her small farmhouse near Liege are perched beside
her frail form as she bows her head in resignation to the
inevitable. The nightmare of her flight is etched in the
shadowy hollows of her sunken cheekbones and the lack
of food and sleep in the dark circles pinching her tired
eyes. A frail, helpless thing caught in the swirl of the
holocaust !

Thomas Grant, an official photographer for the Allied
forces in Salonica, had made hundreds of pictures around
the battle lines, but the best remembered of his war shots
were those taken while on his way home to England for
a furlough — the torpedoing of the French transport Son-
tay on which he was sailing with hundreds of others, bound
for a port of peace. Within four minutes, a deadly missile
streaking through the waters of the Mediterranean from
a German submarine had struck the vitals of the ship and
sent her bottomwards.

Grant was asleep in his cabin when the crash came.
He grabbed a lifebelt and made for the deck in his
stockinged feet. Suddenly remembering his camera, he
dashed back into his room and flung the strap of the
camera case around his neck. He then made for the life-
boat to which he was allotted in "abandon ship" rehears-
als, but it had already been lowered and was bobbing up
and down in the high waves, far below him. He took
the one chance left. The end of a dangling rope was

142 GET THAT PICTURE

within a few inches of the crowded boat. He slid down,
but by that time the boat was carried away, and he was
left there, hanging on for dear life, his feet spinning in
the swirling sea. Fortunately, another wave carried the
boat toward the side of the sinking ship, and an out-
stretched pair of arms grabbed his legs and pulled him in.

The ship was already going down by the bow. Men
hanging on to ropes and ladders were lifted higher and
higher as the vessel nosed deeper into the heavy seas, and
as the cries of the trapped victims, many of whom were
still lined along the deck rails, rose in the misty air, Grant
trained his camera on the terrible scene. One unforget-
table sight was the brave captain waving his cap and
shouting "Vive la France!", as the ship plunged beneath
the waves.

But Grant's troubles were not over yet. The gunboat,
one of a convoy of two, had gone after the submarine with
depth charges, while the other was engaged in rescue
work on the other side of the stricken vessel. So for
what seemed an interminable age, the lifeboat was hurled
from wave to wave, rapidly filling with water. The oc-
cupants worked frantically with cupped hands and head-
gear bailing out the water, but in spite of their efforts, the
boat was steadily filling. To protect his camera, Grant
covered it with his coat, as the spray from the high
waves soaked him to the skin. When hope of safety went
glimmering, the gunboat returned and hove to. Drawing
near, a giant wave stoved in the boat against the steel
hull of the rescue ship, but quick work on the part of the
gunboat's crew brought aboard every member of the life-
boat. A few minutes later the lifeboat disappeared be-
neath the water.

Drenched through and through, cramped tightly on
lower decks, with but little food and an occasional sip of
coffee to assuage their thirst and hunger, the rescued were

GET THAT PICTURE 143

landed at Malta, a full 24 hours after the torpedo had
taken its toll.

Another tragic chapter in the World War's annals was
closed. Forty-nine lives were lost when the Sontay sank;
two others died aboard the gunboat. Manw of the badly
injured were rushed to Malta's hospitals. Grant's photo-
graphs, later reproduced in English, French and American
newspapers, revealed in no mincing terms the horror and
brutality of submarine warfare. The few words : "French
transport Sontay sunk in the Mediterranean by a U-boat,"
which was released to the press, conveyed a vague, almost
meaningless picture, just another incident in the ceaseless
orgy of blood-letting the world was experiencing. The
photographs left an unforgettable stamp on the minds of
readers everywhere. The bloody depredations of the
submarines left a somersaulting sensation in the pit of
the stomach.

The photographer assigned by a neutral newspaper or
syndicate to cover a war embroiling other nations is up
against almost insurmountable odds. The red tape which
the warring nations unravel at the time is like iron fetters
that hinder the slightest motion, and censorship bears
down like a scourge. Every bit of film is scrutinized, and
some of the best stuff secured at times amid the greatest
dangers and risk of life and limb is ruthlessly scraped.
We still have to see the actual battle scenes, the hand-to-hand
encounters, in the Italo-Ethiopian war, the Spanish civil
war, and the present raging Sino-Japanese undeclared war.
Though the latter, by far, has been the most revealing.

This is what confronted Joseph Caneva, a veteran
American news photographer, when he was sent by the
Associated Press Photos in New York to cover the Ethi-
opian conflict. For weeks he had to cool his heels out-
side the doors of Italian officials in Rome until he could
get the necessary permit to travel on to Ethiopia and
join the Italian forces. And still the best picture, in the

144 GET THAT PICTURE

estimation of many, is not what he secured at the fall of
Makale, or other points in the Italian advance, but right
in Naples before he sailed on a troopship to the scene of
the war. The picture in reference shows an Italian soldier
standing on the quay bidding goodbye to his wife and two
children. Anguish is etched on the woman ''s face while she
holds her baby close with the other tot perched on his
shoulders, wearing his father's tropical headgear. The
husband, who looks like a recent conscript from an Apenine
village, grimly smiles, so obviously a mask to the emotions
that is tearing his vitals before he plunges into the un-
known adventure. The poor, helpless victim of a com-
mand— and one suddenly becomes repelled at the whole
sickening business of war. An unimaginative censor must
have let that one slip by, because the implication is so
•terrible, but on the face of it so casual a scene to the
unthinking observer. It was fortunate, in this case, that
the censor could not understand that there are more hor-
rors to war than two foes coming to grips in a trench. And
this picture proves it!

Caneva had plenty of good equipment with which to
"shoot" the war. He had a 4x5 Speed Graphic with a
Carl Zeiss f 4.5, 13.5 cm. lens, and an extra seven inch
lens for long range work, also a 4x5 Graflex with a 17-
inch telephoto lens for extra long range shots, and a
plenteous supply of cut film, 150 dozen packs in all, with
special tin containers holding 'two packs each. He landed
in the troopship at Massaua, and then ten days later left
for the Army base at Asmara. But he could get little
assistance from the officials. He was forced to set up his
own darkroom in a sheet iron barrack where he shut out
the light by hanging blankets across the windows. He
made a darkroom light with which to scan his films while
developing by cutting out the side of a tin can, wrapping
it with red paper and inserting a candle. It was a far
cry from the modern darkrooms in his own syndicate back

GET THAT PICTURE 145

home, but Caneva realized he was face to face with primi-
tive conditions in a faraway world, and he did his job
with the true courage of a pioneer. The heat was terrific
during the day, so he was forced to do his developing at
night. His most difficult problem was to secure cool water
to dissolve his chemicals and rinse his negatives. He
finally located a well outside the town and carried the
water back to his barrack room in a discarded gasoline
drum. He had to wash and rewash his films because
scum clung to the emulsion. The plate holders and
cameras had to be constantly cleansed of the grit and sand
which seemed to choke the air. It was all backbreaking
work amid enervating heat, poor food, little sleep, op-
pression of flies and insects — and still he was far from the
battle lines !

Caneva was the only American photographer with the
Italian forces on that front, and some time elapsed before
he was granted the permission to accompany the troops
on their southward march into the wild, rugged stretches
of Ethiopia. He was the first cameraman to enter Makale,
the first large Ethiopian stronghold to fall beneath the
relentless sweep of II Duce's troops. The last part of the
march meant a two-day blistering hike by foot even though
natives carried the heavy equipment. In spite of a
wracked body, Caneva was plagued by one worry. How
was he to get the negatives back to Asmara to make the
necessary connections to London, and then to the United
States? He realized that he had less than three days in
which to return to develop his negatives, have them cen-
sored and then put aboard the London plane. Scarcely
resting to sleep, and snatching a bite on the run, he made
the gruelling return trip in two and one-half days. Within
ten days, the first pictures of the fall of Makale were
published in the United States — and was one of the great-
est picture scoops in the entire Ethiopian campaign.

The developing problem in Ethiopia, one of the

146 GET THAT PICTURE

world's hottest countries, was overcome in a unique way
by Ladislas Farago, a photographer who represented the
New York Times Wide World Photos. He cooled water
from 100 degrees to 60 degrees by having his native help-
ers wrap bottles in wet cloths, hang them from tree boughs
and swing them to and fro. He always did his developing
at midnight, working under a protective gauze tent.

Covering the Civil (War in Spain has been a most
hazardous but not very productive, job for the news
photographer. The cameramen working there have been
hampered by the strictest regulations set down by both
the Loyalist and Insurgent forces. As a result, very few
pictures have portrayed the actual battle scenes in one of
the world's most sanguinary civil wars have found release
in the press. Aside from the entry of the Insurgent forces
into Malaga, Bilbao and Santander, and a scattering of
scenes depicting the ruins that followed the aerial bombard-
ment of Madrid, Valencia and Almeria, there have been
very few photographs to show the wide extent of the
terrible destruction of lives and property that has ravaged
Spain.

What has been conceded to be the most unusual photo-
graph to come out of the war-stricken country, and which
has been given wide display in newspaper and magazine,
shows a Loyalist soldier falling at the instant a bullet
crashes into his brain. This starkly gripping picture was
taken by Robert Capa who had left Paris for Spain soon
after the outbreak of the war. He and the soldier were
stranded on the Cordoba front. They had been separated
from the main body of Loyalist troops by a sudden charge
of Insurgent forces. The soldier was intent on getting
back to his comrades. As he clambered out of the trench
in which they were isolated, a machine gun rattled and the
soldier was hit. At that instant, Capa, who was directly
behind him, automatically snapped his camera, and then
fell back beside the body of his dead companion. Several

GET THAT PICTURE 147

hours later, when it was dark, Capa crept across the
ground to the Loyalist lines, and safety.

The war in Spain indirectly cost the life of a popular
woman photographer, Fraulein Gerta Taro. Affection-
ately known as "La Poquena Rubia," or "the little red-
head," by the Loyalist soldiers who loved her, she was
injured fatally at the front last Summer when a truck
swerved and struck her as she was standing on the running
board of an automobile. Always clad in a pair of blue
denim overalls, the 23-year-old camerawoman was a famil-
iar figure in the Government trenches. She was able to
get passes to anywhere in or behind the firing lines, and
no general, no matter how busy or of how sullen a dis-
position, would ever refuse her to pose. The untimely
death of the girl who laughed at bullets and shells was a
deep blow to the hundreds of Loyalist soldiers and officers
who knew her and respected her stout courage.

The slaughter of hundreds by the aerial bombs at the
Place and Cathay Hotels and the Wing On and Sincere
department stores in the Shanghai International Settlement
have through startling newsreels and still pictures become
familiarized symbols to the world of what is taking place
in the Far East bath of blood. There are no words to
describe the gruesome horror of the scenes — the mangled
corpses outside the shattered hotel and store fronts, the
removal of the bodies into trucks like so much litter, the
wounded waiting for removal to the hospitals — all the sick-
ening, wenching sights of a war come to one of the
world's most populated cities. There was no heavy hand
of censorship to halt the distribution of these pictures.
Taken within the Settlement confines, no Chinese or Jap-
anese official could discard them, and they were shipped
in toto to the first boat and Clipper plane to speed them
on the way to the United States.

Because of the seriousness of the conflict, its extent,
and its potential threat to the peace of the rest of the

148 GET THAT PICTURE

world, newspaper syndicates everywhere are utilizing every
means to secure the most telling pictures.

On the staffs of many of these syndicates serving
them in Shanghai, Tientsin and Peiping, are to be found
photographers of many nationalities, a veritable "foreign
legion" of cameramen. Even well known news correspon-
dents as James Mills of the Associated Press, and Hallett
Abend and Anthony J. Billingham of the New York
Times, who are as adept with their cameras as they are
with their pens, have been "shooting" pictures and rushing
them back to the States. Both Abend and Billingham
were wounded in the bombing of the Shanghai depart-
ment stores.

While accompanying a Chinese officer to the front
near the North Station in Shanghai, four photographers,
Eric Mayell, Arthur Menken, Rudolfo Brandt and H. S.
Wong, working for American concerns, were bombed and
machine-gunned by Japanese airplanes. They had a mirac-
ulous escape from death.

When the first bomb dropped, scarcely 200 yards from
them, they deserted their automobile and fled into the
fields. But the planes followed them, dipped low and
loosed a volley from their machine guns. The men ran
from the fields into a nearby dugout. Till this day they
still wonder how they ever escaped being either wounded
or killed.

To expedite their material home, the cameramen in
the Shanghai sector chartered planes to fly over the battle
ground to Hong Kong to connect with the Pan-American
Clipper planes for their regular flights over the vast
stretches of the Pacific. Even boats arriving at San Fran-
cisco and Victoria, British Columbia, with refugees have
been contacted for the ordinary tourist's kodak shots.

The Japanese official photographs, most of which have
been showing their soldiers on the march in Peiping,
Tientsin and the far-flung North China area of operations,

GET THAT PICTURE 149

have been coming into this country by the scores. Every
airmail from the Orient brings in a fresh shipment — but,
of course, they tend to show but fragmentary details of
what is actually taking place there, and then only to reveal
the Japanese in the most favorable light. The Chinese
propaganda machine creaks along far behind that of their
enemy's, and few, if any, pictures have been seen here
stamped with their official release.

An incident showing how the Japanese resent any out-
sider's attempt to picturise their movements, took place
in Peiping shortly after the start of the undeclared war.
Sheridan Fahnestock, a young American on a round-the-
world cruise, was beaten over the head by Japanese soldiers
when he attempted to take pictures of a cheering crowd
of Japanese civilians and soldiers outside the Italian Em-
bassy. On the same day, Bonny Powell, an American news-
reel photographer, was shoved around and threatened with
bodily harm when he focused his camera on a motorized
column of Japanese troops.

An amusing sidelight of Japanese hostility took place
a few days later also at Peiping when a dozen United
States Marines on the boundary of the Marine Corps Com-
pound started firing away with their cameras at a column
of Japanese infantry marching past. A Nippon officer
stopped his car and demanded that the Marines stop taking
pictures, but they kept right on clicking their shutters. The
Japanese officer fumed. Finally realizing that he could do
nothing then (except, perhaps, start another international
complication), he stalked back to his car, summoned staff
photographers attached to his own army, and ordered them
to remain taking pictures of the Marines. Let's hope the
Japanese War Office doesn't dig up that picture of the
"shooting" Marines as a casus belli!

The world has now seen the full horror of a civilian
population mercilessly shattered and torn by the implements
of modern warfare. In, Shanghai, Nanking, Dessye, Al-

150 GET THAT PICTURE

meria and Madrid, the ravages of long range guns and
bombing planes have taken their toll of innocent men, wo-
men and children. Photographs, more than words, have
brought home the lesson, and all the implications, of what
modern warfare means. Risking death amid the shambles
of destruction, the war photographer is delivering a power-
ful message of truth — a horrifying one, nevertheless — but
one that should rout the glorifiers of war. His camera is
a magnificent weapon for peace !

Chapter X.
THE WOMAN NEWS PHOTOGRAPHER

There was a day when the male news photographer
sniffed scornfully when told that it was possible that the
woman with the camera would match wits — and plate for
plate, picture for picture — with the man firmly entrenched
in the profession. Humph! Woman? Impossible! The job
was too risky, too dangerous. Reporters once made
kindred statements. They were mistaken, too. Women
photographers are edging in, overcoming all objections,
belieing the popular illusion as to their frailty, lack of
nimbleness in covering a spot news assignment, inability
to handle weighty equipment.

Slender Margaret Bourke-White, photographer-extra-
ordinary, has climbed narrow steel girders hundreds of
feet above the street pavement, plunged into the gaseous
bowels of coal mines, leaped from log to log in swirling
currents to snap hardy Canadian woodsmen; 1 8-year-old
Harriet Platnick, of Hempstead, Long Island, crashes
through police and fire lines, scales walls and fords
streams, to get news pictures of crimes, accidents, forest
fires, train wrecks; a 23-year-old wisp of a girl, with a
thick mass of tousled brown hair and dancing blue eyes,
Miss Mary Louise Morris is a member of the Associated
Press Features staff, and daily fares forth with camera
slung over her shoulder to cover every variety of news
and feature story. There are scores of girl photographers
scattered throughout the country whose news pictures have
been accepted readily by newspapers and syndicates. Frail?
Well, they may be slender, but they've got the wiry firm-
ness of fine steel to withstand any sort of rigor and trial.
Lack of nimbleness? One look at Miss Bourke-White on

152 GET THAT PICTURE

the job, and you have the apotheosis of the fastest action
this side of Glenn Cunningham's burst of speed across
the finish line. Inability to handle equipment? A glance
at Miss Platnick firing away plate after plate, at a crime
or fire scene, and you will reappraise your woman photog-
rapher with a new value and consideration of her merits.
The woman with the camera has really come to stay!

It was a case of dogged perseverance, determination,
and a virtue of completing a job once she started it, that
brought Margaret Bourke-White the remarkable success
she has attained as a photographer.

Her early years were spent studying and playing with
strange pets : turtles, caterpillars and reptiles, including
a baby boa constrictor. Her father was a naturalist, and
the fondness for the wonders of the universe was her
heritage. She studied Natural History in high school.
Her first interest in the camera started at Columbia Uni-
versity when she took an amateurish course in photogra-
phy, chiefly for credits. Then followed several years at
the University of Michigan where she studied biology
and herpetology, a branch of zoology that treats of
reptiles and amphibians. Lack of finances forced her to
seek a position at the end of two years. A job at the
Natural History Museum in Cleveland for a year enabled
her to save enough money to go back to college, this time,
to Cornell University, where she entered the senior class.
She was determined to finish her college education. But
she again needed more money to finish her course. So she
turned to photography as a means to pay her way through.
She took pictures of the students and campus life, and sold
many of them. She employed student salesmen, and her
photographs gained instant popularity.

During her Spring vacation, she stuffed a number of her
outstanding pictures into a portfolio, and came to New
York. She visited the office of a well-known architect.
Among the pictures she carried were a number showing

A horrible moment snapped by the ever-vigilant cameraman as a striker
armed with baseball bat attacks a prostrate business man during- the truck-
men's strike in Minneapolis, Minn., in 1934. The victim later died from the
effects of the blows.

"NOT IN THE LINE OF DUTY"

But one of New York's finest believes it's all in the day's work to fill a cup
with water and fed a helpless sparrow perched on a building1 ledgre.

GET THAT PICTURE 153

campus buildings. She was keenly interested in photograph-
ing structures. The attraction of steel girders and masonry
was to prove a valuable asset for her in the coming years.

The architect was in a hurry to catch a train. Sorry, but
he could not see Miss Bourke- White. The persistent young
lady tagged him as he was leaving. He simply must take
one look at them. The architect capitulated. All right,
just one minute, then. He took one glance at the photo-
graphs and then called the young lady into his office. Mem-
bers of his staff were summoned. It was the turning point
in her life. She knew then and there that photography was
to be her life work.

After graduation, she returned to Cleveland, and estab-
lished herself in a small apartment, converting it into de-
veloping, printing and reception rooms. In the beginning
it was a struggle, but her fine work soon attracted attention.
Architects handed her plenty of assignments. One fine in-
terior of a bank building won her an introduction to a presi-
dent of a steel company. It was the opportunity she was
long waiting for. She had her heart set on making an
interior of a steel mill : the huge cranes, ladles, the dazzl-
ing splutter of molten steel, the iron-muscled, broad-chested
workers, stripped to the waist, facing the open furnace
doors, handling the ingots and bars, blinding with their
white-heat, with the ease of a child playing with a ball.
She asked the executive's permission to make the photo-
graphs. He complied, and off to Europe he went, while
the slim girl day after day, and night after night, faced the
terrific heat and clatter to make dozens of shots. Many
she threw into the wastebasket. She was not satisfied until
she had made what she thought was the perfect set of
pictures. When the steel president returned, he took but
one glance at the photographs, shouted a cry of delight,
and ordered a dozen at $100 apiece for a privately print-
ed book.

It marked the beginning of an active and highly sue-

154 GET THAT PICTURE

cessful career. She was given the highest recommenda-
tions; industry in all parts of the country sought her ser-
vices. Then in 1929 came an offer from Fortune maga-
zine to join its staff. She accepted, and came to New
York, where she also opened a studio to do commercial
work.

Her position with the magazine embarked her on ex-
citing and colorful career; every moment was charged
with thrill and action. She covered industrial news sub-
jects with the fidelity of a newsman "shooting" a fire or
accident. In the summer of 1930 she was sent to Germany
to make a series of photographs of the country's immense
industries, starting with the shipping docks at Hamburg
and continuing on through the network of plants closely
grouped in the Ruhr Valley. But her heart was set on
going to Russia. The great social experiment going on
there intrigued her. After waiting a while for her visa,
she departed for Moscow, and within several days, found
herself a welcomed guest of the Soviet government, at will
to travel the breadth and length of the country. She
brought back a wealth of photographs, many of which
were reproduced in her splendid book, uEyes on Russia,"
and others in the newspaper rotogravure sections. Her
name immediately leaped into front-page fame. It was
startling, fantastic I A woman had dared invade that
strange, mysterious land, where untold dangers threatened,
and came back with a set of photographs which were so
bold, so revelatory of the new state in a process of recon-
struction. It was NEWS, big NEWS!

But Miss Bourke-White was not content to sit back
and rest with the adulations of an admiring public and
press pouring in. She yearned for new adventures. She
packed her cameras, and off she went on an assignment to
cover the drought areas. From Nebraska she flew to
Texas, and back. She would arise at four o'clock in the
morning, work for seven or eight hours, pack her equip-

G£T THAT PICTURE 1 55

ment, and off again she would go by plane to a new loca-
tion. She realized it was a news assignment, so she would
hurry through her job, and fly back to New York with her
negatives in order to make the magazine's deadline.

Hardly a breathing spell, and she was off again, this
time to cover the yacht races for the America's Cup off
Newport, Rhode Island.

It was while covering this assignment that she had a
narrow escape from drowning. She had hired a motor-
boat to get some unusual angle of the Vanderbilt craft.
While making a sharp turn, Miss Bourke-White, who had
run forward to get a shot she wanted, tripped and fell into
the water, still clutching the camera. While she flounder-
ed about, never letting go of the camera, her own skipper
and the crew of the Vanderbilt yacht headed for her and
fished her out. She never even thought of how near death
she was; her only regrets were that the camera was soaked
and ruined, and immediately returned to Newport to get
another camera to resume her work. The job must go on I

The incident is typical of this young woman, who never
gives a thought to self, but doggedly carries on, never tir-
ing, never flagging in spirits, with but one desire upper-
most in her mind, and that is to get only the best possible
pictures.

She made two more trips to the Soviet Union, and
brought back more unusual photographs and two movie
travelogues.

Nothing apparently has deterred this amazing woman
photographer from seeking and finding the most unusual
and out-of-the-way places with which to add to her pic-
torial masterpieces. She has gone a thousand feet down
into the bowels of the earth to make a series on coal min-
ing, where she walked and crawled through muck and dirt
and pools of water to get her pictures, and came stagger-
ing out into the sunlight, her face scratched, her clothes
torn, and her hands and face as black as that of any coal

156 GET THAT PICTURE

miner's. Her only concern was that her camera and
plates were intact. Again she has gone along skeleton
girders a thousand feet above the city pavements to make
some unusual angles of a skyscraper. And traveled a
thousand and more miles into the Canadian wilds to get a
breaking up of a log jam in the Spring. In the early part
of 1936 she flew to South America and made a series of
photographs of coffee growing in the interior of Brazil.

But more and more, as evidenced by the work she
has done, her interest turned from the early years of
"staged" photographs of commercial work to pictures close
to life. She felt drama pulsating in the things happening
throughout the world. She felt that she could not afford
to miss any of it with her camera. So she has gone on
recording more and more of the things which can be con-
sidered news. And withal, she deemed it her purpose and
goal to interpret these stirring things of life with a fresh
meaning and outlook. She sees a meaning and a purpose
— and a story — in the most humble person and object.
Because of this increasing interest in the factual world, she
came in the fall of 1936 as an "editorial photographer"
to Life magazine. She has been on their staff ever since,
where her indefatigable efforts have been crowned with
new successes. She is establishing herself as a news
photographer-extraordinary.

It may be of interest to note the fine photographic
equipment Miss Bourke-White has available for covering
her assignments. She has the following cameras: a 3^4
X4^4 Linhof, with which she uses two Tessar lenses, one
an f4-5 with a 13.5 cm. focus, and the other also an f*4.5
with a 15 cm. focus, an Angulon f6.8, 9 cm. lens, a Tele-
xenar f5.5, 27 cm. lens, and a Tessar f6.3, 18 cm. lens;
a 3x4 R. B. Auto Graft ex with an £"4.5 Kodak Anastigmat
lens, of 7 inch focus; a Soho Reflex, Tropical Model,
camera, with which she uses a Zeiss Tessar f3.5, 13.5 cm.
lens and a Cook, Series X, 162 mm. lens; a Fairchild

GET THAT PICTURE 157

Aero Camera, Model F8, with a Schneider Xenar £4.5,
24 cm. lens, and a Super Ikonta A camera. She also uses
a Contax for candid camera studies and a 5x7 View Cam-
era for special studies, particularly with photomural work
in mind.

Crack photographer, picture editor and art director —
all three — each a man's job in itself — are embodied in the
slim, dashing form of 3O-year-old Miss Jackie Martin, of
the Washington, D. C., Herald, said to be the only woman
picture editor of a metropolitan daily in the United States.

Any day of the week will find this tireless, vivacious
woman buried deep in a stack of pictures, selecting for
the daily and Sunday pages, turning now and again to
hand out an assignment to one of her staff of able news
cameramen. Pausing for a few moments, she will toy
with a brilliant idea that has suddenly entered her mind, and
off she will go with miniature camera to the Capitol
building to make an unusual series of news photographs.
On her return she will fling herself once more into the
tornadic-speed of selecting, making up the picture page,
and assigning, only interrupting her work to hurry into
the darkroom to supervise the printing of the pictures or
make suggestions regarding the cropping and enlarging
of the prints. The day over does not mean that her work
is done — for she will hie to a night society function to get
an exclusive layout of pictures. Her ambition is to fill the
Herald with the most distinctive news and feature pictures,
and she is succeeding.

A very determined young woman is Miss Martin. And
always has been. Ever since she left Eastern High School
in Washington, her life has been a succession of swift, col-
orful experiences.

At Syracuse University where she entered on a schol-
arship, she covered her expenses by shining shoes and
waiting on tables. But the financial struggle was a bit
too keen for her, and she was forced to leave at the end

158 GET THAT PICTURE

of the freshman year. The temporary halt in an ambition
only spurred her on to attain greater ends in the outside
world. She secured a position as a woman's sports editor
of the Washington Times, then later went over to the
Underwood and Underwood news service as society editor.
While there, photography became an obsession. She
studied day and night, asked a hundred and one questions
of the news cameramen she trailed here and there, and
finally became so experienced in handling the camera that
she asked for, and received, a job as news photographer
with the, then, Washington Times Herald. She covered
the fire, crime, accident and other news stories as ably
as any of the male photographers on the paper.

While on the Times Herald she accepted an offer to
become publicity director and auditorium manager of the
Arcadia, Washington's "Madison Square Garden." Then
the newspaper world lured her back once more, and she
joined the Herald as assistant society editor. A short
period in that position, and then over to the Washington
News as feature writer, followed by & return to the
Herald where within six weeks she became its picture
editor.

From the outset she was determined to make its photo-
graphic staff one of the best in the country, and sought
the latest improvements in darkroom technique. It meant
many a stiff battle with the business department, but she
won out. Today the Herald has few rivals in the com-
plete modernization of its photographic layout. On her
staff are two assistants, eight photographers, six artists
and several darkroom men.

During her seven years tenure with the Herald as
picture editor and art director, she has gone out constantly
with her camera to bring in many notable picture scoops,
and even found time to make a trip to Europe to study
newspaper pohtographic methods in Copenhagen, Paris

GET THAT PICTURE 159

and London, bringing back with her many ideas which
she incorporated into her work here.

While in England a member of the Royal Photo-
graphic Society was so impressed with her work that she
was proposed for membership. In 1936, shortly after
she became an Associate, two of her photographs were
selected for display at the Society's annual exhibition, an
honor few women have achieved.

Miss Martin has the daring and fearlessness of the
male news photographer. During the funeral services
held for the late Speaker Byrns in the House of Repre-
sentatives when no cameramen were allowed in, she man-
aged to get in and obtain an exclusive shot which appeared
in the Herald the following day for an eight-column
spread.

Two years ago, at the opening of Congress, she made
the only picture of the Cabinet members listening to the
President's address, taken with her Contax from the press
box where the camera boys were barred. A year later,
when the President appeared again to make his address,
Miss Martin attempted to duplicate her feat, but she was
discovered and ejected. But a few minutes later she was
back in a lower tier after scaling a rail, and startled the
rival picture editors the following day with another
Herald reproduction of the similar scene.

All during the Democratic Convention sessions in
Philadelphia in 1936 her remarkable pictures of the lead-
ers and delegates filled page after page in her paper. A
never-to-be-forgotten scene took place at the social dinner
given by Governor Earle of Pennsylvania, preceding the
formal opening of the Convention. Delegates looked on
with amazement as Miss Martin, smartly gowned in a
latest Paris creation, swept through the ballroom, follow-
ed by a tall State Trooper, carrying her camera case. She
literally "stole the show." While all eyes were focused
on this stunningly attired woman, she, unconcernedly,

l6o GET THAT PICTURE

shot picture after picture of the party leaders assembled
there, obtaining an exclusive layout.

Miss Martin does most of her work — when she breaks
away from her desk — with Leica, Contax and Speed
Graphic. The largest part of her work during the past
four years has been with a Contax with a Sonnar f 11.5
lens, but recently bought a Leica, also with an f 11.5 lens,
and she is getting splendid results with that camera as well.

Just recently, News Week magazine carried a page of
pictures she took of Supreme Court Justice Van Devanter,
who had resigned, and Town and Country, a popular
sophisticated monthly, had a three page layout of hers on
a party given in Washington for Doris Duke, the nation's
wealthiest heiress.

Though her enthusiasm lies in the miniature camera
field, her uboys" on the staff prefer the Speed Graphic.
But Miss Martin does not split hairs with their judgment.
She firmly believes that both types of cameras have their
essential uses on a metropolitan daily. The invaluable
combination of candid camera (the Herald has five of
them), and the Speed Graphic are bringing in results —
and that is Miss Martin's sole desideratum.

At the present time Miss Martin is building a model,
air-conditioned candid-camera darkroom in the Herald
building, which, when finished, will be dedicated by Mrs.
Roosevelt. She already has built one in her own home.

This amazing young woman is setting a pace in picture
editing and news photography which is fast outstripping
many a male competitor.

Only 23 years of age, Miss Mary Louise Morris is
already making quite a name for herself as a news photog-
rapher. In a little more than a year on the staff of the
Associated Press Feature Service in New York, she has
accumulated several nice scoops, and many interesting ex-
periences. She largely goes after the news feature sub-
jects, and frequently makes a series of photographs for

GET THAT PICTURE l6l

the picture page which the syndicate produces each week.

In the beginning she was quite taken aback as the recur-
rent question popped at her: "Are you REALLY a news
photographer?" It seemed incredible that the short, slim
lass — and so pretty — could really be one of the army of
camera bearers so long known to the public as seasoned,
hardy fellows, most of them in the late twenties or early
thirties. The persons she was about to "shoot" often
twitted her as she asked them to pose. "Now, really,
stop spoofing," they would say. "That fellow there
(they pointed to the male reporter who accompanied her
to get the story), must be the cameraman, not you. Now
start your questions." And it took a lot of convincing to
make her subjects realize that she was all in earnest.

However, Miss Morris is now quite a veteran at press-
ing the Button and pulling the flashes. She is no longer
nervous or abashed, and before anyone she is photograph-
ing has a chance to fling a challenge, she has already made
her picture.

Long before she had graduated from Sarah Lawrence
College in Bronxville, New York, Miss Morris had tink-
ered with a camera. At the age of eight she handled a
Brownie with proficiency, and later in her 'teens bought a
simple Eastman and went off to England to make a very
interesting set of photographs. She knew then and there
that photography was her forte, and set about to learn
more of the technical knowledge required in handling one
of the more intricate machines. At first she wanted to
take up reporting, but then decided that her camera would
enable her to cover the news she was after with greater
facility. She was unusually picture-minded. She was
especially interested in the workaday world, in people
around her, in the expressions on their faces, and the
movements of their hands and bodies.

It was with a bit of trepidation that she sought a job
on the Associated Press Feature service — but one look at

1 62 GET THAT PICTURE

the work she offered, and the editor said the position was
hers. But it was no easy sailing. Plenty of hard work,
sufferance of sly jibes from her fellow workers — but she
tightened her lips, and went on, with success from the
start.

Since her work is more on the feature side of news,
she has more time to think and plan, and carefully figures
out what she is going to ushoot." She has plenty of time
to plan her attack, for she makes appointments in advance
with the persons she is to photograph.

"This sort of thinking must be done," she says, "if
photographs are to have more meaning and sincerity than
the wholly "gotten up," "knock your eye out" stunt pic-
tures which so many people are going after these days."

She never resorts to feminine wiles to induce help from
her fellow-photographers. She makes them feel that she
is just another one of the "boys", and in this way, has
earned their camaraderie and respect. She proved to be
a darn good scout when she was assigned to get a series
of intimate studies of John L. Lewis, the labor leader,
when he was taking part in a bituminous coal conference
to regulate hours and wages in the industry held at the
Hotel Biltmore in New York the winter of 1937.

The only pictures she could get in the beginning — or
anyone else, for that matter — were the routine shots of
him entering and leaving the lobby elevator. Nothing
doing on any other pictures, the photographers were told.
No pictures during the conference, and no pictures, before
or after. And the reporters were given the same cold
shoulder in regard to news.

Several of the reporters thought of a swell stunt.
There was a tiny anteroom leading off the main meeting
room. They wanted to hide there and overhear the con-
ference talk. But — and there was the rub — the door lead-
ing into the room was always kept open. Now if Miss
Morris could just with some excuse get into the main

GET THAT PICTURE 163

room, edge near the door, and close it — why, that would
be great! Miss Morris quickly thought of a plan. Easy!
She would enter the room just as the conferees sat down
and start searching around as if she lost something. The
plan worked. The "lost something" was a flash bulb, and
she kept nearing the door, the meanwhile searching here
and there for the "lost bulb." The delegates promptly
offered their services in the search, and they were soon
down on hands and knees looking under tables and chairs.
Pretending that it might be behind the door, Miss Morris
innocently closed it. And then turned around: "Sorry,
gentlemen, I must have lost it elsewhere." Her tone
was a sorrowful one. The delightful interlude of trying
to help a damsel in distress must have so bewildered them
that no one even thought of the closed door. And the
conference went on, with two pairs of ears glued to the
other side of the door, taking in all that they said.

The grand favor was to be reciprocated the following
day when Mr. Lewis startlingly announced to a group of
reporters begging him for a statement that he would only
be interviewed by one man — one to whom he had made a
promise some time back. It proved to be one of the two
men who were in the anteroom the preceding day.

Miss Morris saw her chance. "Say, old pal," she
nudged the lucky reporter, "remember that stunt yester-
day." But she did not even have to ask. The reporter
dragged her into the room where Mr. Lewis lounged, and
introduced the girl photographer to the gruff, affable labor
leader. Sure, Miss Morris could have all the pictures she
wanted. They were the only layout of intimate studies
made during Mr. Lewis's stay in the city.

Miss Morris uses a Rolleiflex camera a large part of
the time, usually with one or more flashbulbs placed in
standing reflectors, and synchronized with a Mendelsohn
flashgun. She also has a Contax and a Soho reflex camera
which she uses occasionally.

164 GET THAT PICTURE

Ever since she was a babe in arms, Miss Harriet Plat-
nick, 1 8-year-old news photographer of Hempstead, Long
Island, has heard the parlance of cameras, plates, bulbs,
speed guns and all the "shop talk" daily expressed by
news cameramen. Her father, Samuel Platnick, a veteran
news gatherer with the camera, has operated a studio in
their home town for more than fifteen years. Her brother
is also an experienced news photographer. Therefore she
got used to handling cameras ever since she has learned
to walk.

At ten, she owned her own Brownie camera and was
successful in developing and printing her own work. At
fifteen, armed with a 4x5 Speed Graphic, equipped with a
Carl Zeiss Tessar f*4.5 lens and a Mendelsohn speedgun,
which was in a sad condition after being passed down from
her father to her brother to herself, she took her first
news pictures. It was an auto accident in which two were
killed and others dying. Pretty bloody. She nearly quit,
but thought it over, gritted her teeth and decided if she
was to maintain her livelihood with a camera, she had to
take the bad with the good, the pretty with the pretty
horrible.

Her contacts with New York newspapers began
through her father. He had wide acquaintances among
picture editors, and at first when the assignments came in,
he would send her out to cover the story, providing there
was to be no rush and excitement.

She would cover the assignments and her plates would
go in to her father's outfits under his name. Of course,
this was only after many months of careful schooling under
the watchful eyes of both her father and brother. With
them she would work shoulder to shoulder making plate
after plate, and by comparing results, she was able to
improve her work. Finally, word leaked out that Mr.
Platnick had a daughter who was responsible for many of
the shots coming in from Long Island.

GET THAT PICTURE 165

Some of the editors resented that fact. The idea of
a girl taking straight news photographs, did not somehow,
fit into the scheme of their daily lives. Now they are,
or almost are, over it.

Like the girl photographer of the Associated Press,
Miss Platnick has become quite used to hearing people
say: "Look, that's a girl taking those pictures," with an
incredulous tone of voice that seems to indicate that a lens
could not possibly work in conjunction with skirts and a
pair of silk stockings.

Miss Platnick also believes in never asking for, nor
taking for granted an special favor because of her sex.
She has never asked for easy assignments. If the job calls
for scaling the side of a building for an altitude shot,
then up she goes. If she has to row half way across Long
Island Sound and argue her way on board a yacht and
forcible ducking at the hands of an irate crew to get a shot
of a Europe-bound millionaire, then she hires a boat and
shoves off.

There was that incident in 1936 when the Baroness
Eza von Blixen Finecke, who planned to fly the Atlantic,
was left behind by her pilot. The Baroness went into deep
seclusion. The papers wanted pictures, but the Baroness
said no in her exclusive retreat at the Hickville Aviation
Country Club. There was a ring of cameramen at the
gate, so Miss Platnick left her camera in her car, and
strolled past the gate and tried to put on that "swanky"
look. She insisted to the doorman that she had an ap-
pointment with the Baroness and that if he would take
her card in the Baroness would see her. This he did.
The Baroness appeared but said that she didn't recall ever
having an appointment. Finally, the Baroness consented
to pose for a picture. Miss Platnick "just-one-more'd" her
into a complete layout.

There was another time up in Lettingtown, Long
Island. J. P. Morgan was sailing in a few days for

1 66 GET THAT PICTURE

Europe. The Sunday previous, he attended church at
St. John's, and it was a pretty general assignment. As
J. P. entered church, he covered up with a big top hat.
On the way out, Miss Platnick was waiting, and she made
a six-foot closeup shot of him in a crowd which prevented
him from escaping. As they reached the end of the
walk, the financier began to swing his cane perilously close
over the heads of a few photographers and quite close
to her, but she got the picture. Miss Platnick honestly
believes that the grand mogul of finance actually smiled
when he saw her there.

Daily, Miss Platnick receives the so-called "tips" from
State Troopers, police and other individuals from all over
the island.

Remember those first pictures of Dick Merrill and
Jack Lambie tuning up their plane just before hopping to
London and back? The girl photographer had the good
fortune to get a good break on that story from a State
Trooper who happened by the Farmingdale Airport, and
noticing the work going on, phoned her. Dick and Jack
were more than surprised when she asked them to pose
for a layout of pictures.

At another time, Jack Dempsey, the fighter carried her
camera case all over the beach while she was taking pic-
tures of orphans at the beach.

The Hempstead miss contacts the newspaper offices
in the usual manner. A phone call to the picture or city
desk, a description of the picture, a dash to the darkroom
to take the films from the holders and wrap them in light-
proof paper and insert in an empty 4x5 box; then into her
car she goes to the nearest station, finds a trainman to
take the package to New York, gives him a few hurried
instructions, and then on another phone calls the newspaper
or syndicate desk advising the time of arrival, and they
have a messenger pick up the package.

GET THAT PICTURE 167

For her equipment, Miss Platnick still carries a Speed
Graphic, but this time a new one. She also uses a candid
camera, a Zeiss Ikonta, with a Kalart Speedgun. She
has her own car, which is equipped with a case of bulbs,
tripod, changing bag, panchromatic films, rubber boots
for wet assignments, dry clothes in case of a spill, and
other odds and ends which go to make up a complete
outfit.

At nights the wisp of a lass listens closely in on the
local police radio station WPGS. It frequently happens
that a number of signal ID'S will follow each other in
quick succession (they are accident code calls), and Miss
Platnick will dash to each scene, covering each one rapidly
and thoroughly, so as not to be beaten by rivals.

That's the life of a girl photographer — only eighteen
years of age!

Now who can say, in all fairness, that the girl photog-
rapher cannot cover the news?

Chapter XL

THE AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHER GETS THE
PICTURE!

By CHARLES H. MCLAUGHLIN
(McLaughlin Aerial Surveys, Inc.)

News-Photography-from-the-Air can hardly be called
a definite profession. It is just one of many branches of
aerial photography, but wjien there is something sensa-
tional to be covered it can be very exciting.

We might divide it into two general classes: spread
news and spot news. For the former, the pictures must
be outstanding and of more than ordinarily good quality;
they should be unusual pictures of subjects that have a
lasting interest with the general public. As these pictures
can be used at anytime, they are for the most part carried
in either the rotogravure or second news sections. The
latter, i.e., spot news, covers events of immediate and
unusual interest, the forest fire, flood, explosion, the sport
event, etcetra. As it is difficult in many instances to get
very close to the scene for some of these pictures because
of conditions presenting themselves, the pictures must be
shot as well as possible under the circumstances and then
rushed to the paper which is usually holding up an edition
for them.

Sometimes, as in the case of the arrival of the liner
Normandie after her maiden voyage, the work is a com-
bination of both these classes.

Therefore, when we received an assignment to cover
the Normandie's arrival we had to plan our flight in order
to get exceptional views and at the same time make certain

A SEA QUEEN AND HER PAGE-BOYS!

Escorting the majestic liner Normandie up the North River to her royal
berth, the tiny tugs skim the water in white- foamed excitement — an inter-
esting spectacle tavten by the aerial photographer who waited for the exact
moment when the wind died down allowing the Normandie's smoke to plume
straight upward instead of across her bows. It was a long wait from the
time she left Quarantine — but the picture was worth it!

CLOUDS OVER MANHATTAN

The aerial photographer on the way home from a Connecticut assignment
glimpsed the skyscrapers of Manhattan through a rift' in the sea of clouds,
12,000 feet up, and snapped this interesting shot of cumulus and tiny blocks

of steel and stone.

By Thomas McAvoy, courtesy TIME, Inc.
'Now let me look this over — — "

THE CANDID CAMERA INVADES THE WHITE HOUSE
When Thomas Dowell McAvoy was assigned to get pictures of the signing
of the Brazilian Trade Agreement at the White House in 1935 he resolved
to get something different than the other cameramen. Unobserved, he quietly
pressed the button of his miniature camera twenty times — and here are some
of his results. It was the first' complete candid camera study of the President
in an official capacity.

By Thomas McAvoy, courtesy TIME, Inc.
"How's Brazil?"

GET THAT PICTURE 169

that they were received by the newspaper in the shortest
possible time.

Rather than use our regular plane, we chose an auto-
gyro for the reason that when a well-heralded event takes
place such as this one, there are many planes in the air
and all of them circling the subject at the same time. The
procedure followed is that everyone flies in a right circle
and as they come around into position they shoot a picture
and circle for another, but each photographer must wait
his turn. This results often in the best view being avail-
able only to the ones fortunate enough to be in position
when the subject presents itself for a good picture.

With the autogyro we were not obliged to fly the
circle. We pulled the nose up and throttled the motor
to a speed about equal to the Normandie's and hugged
her close while waiting for the view we wanted. The day
was a bit windy and there was a downdraft on occasions
which carried the smoke from the Normandie's stacks
down across the forward decks frequently obscuring the
bow completely. Still we didn't shoot. Competition in
the air was keen, and we realized we would have to get
the one outstanding shot to have it published.

We therefore bided our time. The big ship had al-
ready passed the Statue of Liberty and was getting on
past the tip of Manhattan. There was the picture — the
ship and the cluster of skyscrapers — but to our dismay,
the smoke was still being blown downward or forward.
Suddenly about the time she was passing the Holland
Tunnel the wind subsided and the smoke plumed directly
up for some hundreds of feet. Two quick shots ! We had
what we wanted and again the smoke came down.

It takes a new liner coming into New York more time
than usual because of a two or three hour wait at Quaran-
tine and its slow progress up the Hudson River. There-
fore, instead of waiting until the ship was finally berthed
at her pier, we landed at Miller Field on Staten Island

I7O GET THAT PICTURE

and met a motorcycle messenger from a picture syndicate
who took the films we had exposed in the lower bay and
at Quarantine. He rushed these back to his office.

Off we were again on our flight and we returned to
make some more shots of the liner slowly churning the
river. After getting what we wanted of these and the
skyscrapers of New York as a background we made a
quick flight to Jersey City Airport, delivered the plates to
a second messenger, and then rushed back in time to catch
the liner docking. We then landed at North Beach on
Long Island and sent a third batch of film on its way.
We then returned to Roosevelt Field where the autogyro
was stored. What a thrill on returning to the city to
find the front pages displaying pictures carrying our credit
line!

Spot news work comes up suddenly. It is seldom that
we get an opportunity to make any plans. An early
morning call! — the Akron crashes; the Morro Castle
burns; the Lindbergh baby is kidnapped; a big flood — get
pictures! Get anything, but get it quick! Frequently
there is fog, rain, snow or it is not yet daylight. But we
take off if we have a fifty-fifty chance!

We have our bad breaks, too. When the big floods
swept Johnstown and Pittsburgh in 1936 we couldn't get
through until the flood was old news.

During the big flood at Hartford, Connecticut, a few
years ago we were more fortunate in getting pictures
promptly and making all editions for the newspaper who
had chartered us.

When the Lindbergh kidnapping story broke, we could
do nothing but get views of the house, the police cars, or
the crowds nearby. Every ground photographer was
getting them too, so we tried something different. At the
time there was talk of the baby still being in the neighbor-
hood. We therefore climbed up to 12,000 feet and shot
comprehensive photographs of that whole section of New

GET THAT PICTURE 171

Jersey. We submitted the group to the papers and they
all used them. Their artists put a white ring around the
house and suggested possible routes for searching parties
to take through the Sourland Range of mountains. Not
many hours after the pictures were published we received
calls from the police requesting prints for studying the
topography and guiding the searching parties.

Very often when we are up on a commercial job and
there is no news work to be done we either look for or
create news. By making news I do not mean that we
distort or falsify. It is simply finding something there
that on first glance did not exist.

For instance, one day while taking pictures over Con-
necticut so many clouds blew in that I could not complete
my work and had to return. When such a thing happens
one naturally loses a certain amount of money for cross-
country flying and we had already been on that same job
twice before. It was disheartening. I was anxious to
retrieve some of the losses, so we climbed up through the
clouds and watched for an interesting opening. In flying
south over Manhattan Island, we managed to get eight or
ten beautiful shots of the city through the clouds. We
developed them and took them to the papers and the
rotogravure sections grabbed them right up. So did a
number of magazine editors and to our delight we did a
lot better than break even on the day's work.

Very often when flying cross country under more fav-
orable conditions many interesting subjects present them-
selves, and always with rotogravure in mind we try to
get several views that are both interesting and beautiful.

There is more than just an airplane and camera re-
quired in the making of aerial photographs. Different
types of work call for changes in cameras, wearing apparel
and grades of film.

During the summer one can wear most anything in a
cabin plane, and if flying an open job a helmet and goggles

172 GET THAT PICTURE

are necessary accessories. During the winter months and
especially on clear, cold days there is no clothing too warm.
Sheepskin-lined flying suit, helmet and mocassins, and a
pair of leather mittens with wool or fur lining are standard
equipment. Putting them on in a warm place adds to one's
comfort when aloft as no cold air gets in once they are
fastened.

There are two types of aerial cameras for news work.
One is adapted to roll film and the other to cut film or
plates. The former is preferable when many pictures
must be taken in rapid succession. Its drawback is the
length of time required for developing and drying the
film. In news work this is often a distinct handicap.
However, there are many features in its favor as being
able to carry enough film for several hundreds of shots
and only having to load the camera after each hundred
exposures. Until very recently the roll film has been faster
and of better quality than cut film or plates.

The smaller cameras are usually equipped with maga-
zines for either plates or cut film, and while they do not
usually compare with the roll film in quality, they can be
handled very much faster. A motorcycle can rush a maga-
zine from the airport to the newspaper or syndicate and
in little time the films are developed and printed, while if
only a few shots are made on a roll the camera must be
taken to the darkroom so the exposed film can be cut from
the roll sealed in a container and then sent to the labora-
tory for developing. This greatly delays the dispatching
of the prints to the newspaper or syndicate.

In aerial work filters are extremely important. One
chief reason for this is that as soon as you are more than
three or four hundred feet above the earth you encounter
blue haze, and the higher you go the denser the haze,
so naturally a denser filter is required to cut it. For low
flying I recommend an "Aero i" filter which cuts a
certain amount of blue haze but also softens white objects

GET THAT PICTURE 173

which on a bright day have a tendency to helate. For
intermediate flying, i.e., one to six thousand feet up, an
"Aero 2" filter is required, and above six thousand feet
a minus blue filter is used. There are filters in between
these mentioned but for the usual work they are not
necessary.

Every ascent into the blue is a new adventure. Every
new scene to be photographed presents a new problem.
There are hazards which the news cameraman on the
street does not have to face, but the objective is the same
— get the picture, and get it back pronto. It is a thrilling
game, and while it is not as glamorous as some other types
of flying, I can assure you that there is plenty of kick to
it and calls for the use of steel nerves, ,good judgement,
quick wits and the keenest photographic ability on every
trip.

Chapter XII.

THE PUBLICITY MAN GETS THE PICTURE!

By HAMILTON WRIGHT, JR.

(Hamilton Wright Publicity Organization)

New York City

(Mr. Wright has had published many thousands of
publicity .pictures in newspapers and magazines throughout
the world during his 18 years as a publicity executive.
His organization headed by Hamilton Wright, Sr. and the
author's three brothers enjoy an enviable reputation in
publicity circles. It specializes in pictorial publicity and
represents many foreign governments, resorts, universities
and great industrial corporations.)

Every outstanding personality on earth was made out-
standing with the help of news publicity. News publicity
can make or break any man. Daily it controls the
theatrical box office, the flow of business at resorts, the
elections, the sports events, the popularity of social lumi-
naries, reactions pro or con to Government decisions,
crusades and campaigns of every conceivable nature.

Well directed publicity can saturate public opinion like
the Flood. Poor publicity? — well, if it's poor you never
know the difference because it just isn't. Thanks to
journalistic standards today editors are the bull dogs for
press agents. Poor ideas hit an editor's waste paper
basket with a sickening thud. An idea has got to click or
it doesn't get into print. An idea today must be sound,
constructive, interesting.

Pictures in modern publicity today is still in a sadly
developed stage. The written word is 100% more per-

GET THAT PICTURE 175

feoted in the realms of publicity than emulsionized ideas.
I don't mean that publicity pictures are not mechanically
perfect. Far from it. Exposure, timing, and printing are
as a rule excellent. Indeed, I'd say that 60% of the
photographers who take publicity pictures are top notch
men. But — out of every 100 publicity photographs you
won't find three that can create news. And herein lies
the key to success in pictorial publicity. What you need
is an idea. And you have to know what is essential in a
picture to carry that idea across. Remember, pictures
don't lie. The camera sees everything — all your faults
or all your good points. Every picture should tell a story.
A perfect publicity picture needs little or no caption writing
— it sells itself.

I have an idea for a publicity picture. I've had it
for two years, and I've never used it. I'll pass it along,
and the first press agent who uses it will, I guarantee, get
it published in every third newspaper and magazine in
the country. It's an idea for some winter resort. There
isn't much left in winter resorts that hasn't been published.
Editors are submitted the same humdrum pictures every
season — skiing, jumping, skating, personalities, etc. What's
left? Nothing! You've got to manufacture it. In order
to get the name of the resort published in hundreds of
newspapers you've got to give the papers a picture con-
taining so rnuch dynamic and interesting material that
they'll gladly publish your picture. Here's the idea. Ten
men skiing through the air simultaneously in line forma-
tion! Impossible? Almost! In order to get this picture
you would have to search for a hill with a projecting slope
a la ski-jump. Let's assume you can't find it. Then get a
team of horses, a half dozen men and build it. You can't
find ten ski-jumpers? Then bring them up from the city
— or from a nearby ski club. They won't come? Then
pay them. They can't jump together? Then train them.

176 GET THAT PICTURE

They don't do it right? Then do it again next week. And
keep after it until you get them.

But getting this alone is using an idea for only 50%
of its possible value. How much nicer it woud be to have
these ten boys sailing over the heads of a mixed group
of winter vacationists relaxing for a moment during a
snowshoe hike. Imagine them nonchalantly talking in
knotted groups, some sitting, some strolling, some stand-
ing, some enjoying a hot beverage. Perhaps some tables
or chairs are ,nearby. Alright — let's move the whole
works right under the spot where our ten skylarking heroes
are going to emulate the men on the flying trapeze — winter
tempo !

Thus we have a double-barrelled wallop in our picture.
We have human interest galore. We have spectacular
interest. We have news interest — it's something new —
never been seen before. We have resort appeal, and, last
but not least, we let the world know that the town of Snow
Use of the Snow Use Winter Sports Vacationland is alive
and kicking, and here's where you, dear newspaper reader,
want to come when you think of winter recreation. We
haven't mentioned the newsreels, but you can rest assured
they'd go for this like a kitten goes for milk.

Radio City, John D. Rockefeller's $100,000,000 de-
pression-built emporium of business in the heart of Man-
hattan, is perhaps one of the outstanding examples of
what paper pulp can be made to do to pay dividends.
Here, publicity played a major part in turning the tide of
investment from a much prophesied white elephant into
one of the smartest building investments in the history of
Manhattan. Confronted with a $3,000,000 annual rental
for property he owned in the area now Rockefeller Center,
John D. Rockefeller, Jr. elected to make that property
pay him $3,000,000 plus annually. He did, and it cost
him $100,000,000.

I was fortunate enough to be associated with the en-

GET THAT PICTURE 177

tire development shortly after the major part of the con-
struction work had been done. Prior to that time news
was sent to the press almost daily heralding: UA 7o-story
building will rise at 49th Street and Fifth Avenue" — "The
world's largest theatre, a Music Hall will be built at
50th Street and Sixth Avenue" — "French, English, Italian
and German Buildings will front Fifth Avenue between
49th and 5ist Streets". It was excellent news, real news.
The papers gobbled it up. But the time shortly came
when they had become so saturated with this news that it
no longer had sufficient reader interest to justify wide-
spread publicity. The story had been told not once but
ten times, and it was wearing off. Yet the time was com-
ing when publicity was needed more than ever before.
Offices were nearing completion for occupancy, and the
renting department needed all the publicity the develop-
ment could get to close leases.

Studying the situation in all its aspects there was one
thing left to do that had not been done — pictorial pub-
licity! No pictures dramatizing the tremendous, operation
had been taken. No pictures showing four dozen men
working at top speed in military-like formation with rock
drills boring into the bowels of Manhattan's solid work
had been made. They hadn't been made because four
dozen men never worked on one spot, yet there were at
times ten dozen at work throughout the development. I
brought four dozen together, shot the pictures, and they
were published not only from coast to coast but in many
foreign countries. Rather than await the completion and
placing of an important bit of sculpture we went direct
to the artists' studios and had them assemble plaster
models of gargantuan statues they were working out.
Result — pictures in all the papers.

No stone was left unturned. If pictures didn't exist
we made them exist. Time and again newspapers carried
half-page rotogravure spreads of the entire development

178 GET THAT PICTURE

after it was completed and work was still going on within
itself. But each time a news vehicle had to be provided.
Once we arranged to have four autogyro planes, the only
four in the East, fly over the Center in formation saluting
the development. By luck we were able to get the first
cabin autogyro and incidentally the first pictures ever taken
of it. The day was set, and over they came at two p.m.,
one from Philadelphia, one from Floyd Bennett Field and
two from Westchester County. By the time they got into
formation the clouds let loose a downpour that nearly
spelled disaster for the gyros. Again we scheduled it for
the following Saturday, and on Sunday a week later papers
from coast to coast carried spectacular pictures of those
four ships majestically displayed against ujohn D. Rocke-
feller's new $100,000,000 building development shortly to
house executive offices of the nation's greatest businesses."

Perhaps the most spectacular shot was one made on the
spur of the moment during a lunch hour on top of the
RCA building then skeletonized up to its 68th floor. I
noticed that the steel workers thought nothing of sitting
on the edge of a girder with a yawning abyss of nothing
between them and the street. I suggested that a 60 or
yo-foot steel girder be hoisted over the street, and asked
the men if they would sit on it and eat their lunches while
we took pictures. The response was so great that we had
to cut the number down to eleven, and away with our
cameras at a subject that made the reader hold his breath
and solemnly swear to himself that he would never be a
steel worker.

I will now turn to another outstanding example of
creative ability in picture publicity. Like other big col-
leges, Fordham University has the usual classes in chem-
istry, botany, and the other sciences. Legitimate news
slowed down to a standstill one month not so long ago,
and we were forced to turn on the "heat" in an effort to
get publicity. Just because there is "nothing going on"

GET THAT PICTURE 179

is no reason why you should accept your check every
month from any client. He pays for publicity, and he
either gets it or you don't get paid.

One day we wandered into the microscopic section and
noticed a half dozen boys looking through the instruments.
The idea struck us immediately to line up fifteen or twenty
in such fashion that we could get a perfect alignment,
almost uncanny in perspective, of those boys all observing
at the same time. Consultations with the professor
resulted in the boys being called into Room A after school
hours, and we went to work. It was essential that the
boys be all of uniform height, dressed alike, and using the
left eye. A few foot stools brought uniformity in head
height, white jackets came out of the laundry, and we
went to work. This picture was comparatively simple to
get — a chance thought — and it received widespread pub-
licity.

Readers throughout the country may still remember one
unusual picture given prominent display in rotogravure,
showing a trio of planes flying in perfect formation over
a speeding express train in Florida. A lot of perspiration
was spent on that one.

The Blankety Blank Railroad has as its greatest com-
petitor for Florida bound travel the Blankety X Railroad.
I may be telling stories out of school in relating this inci-
dent, but it is done to show that sometimes even the great
minds in railroading miss a bet to advertise themselves.

We were negotiating with the Blankety Blank outfit
for a contract to handle news publicity for the winter
season. The decision was constantly put off through
jealousy on behalf of a certain advertising agency who
thought we were doing work they should have done and
taking money away from them. We told the agency we
would give them a regular 15% commission off the total
allotted for publicity, exactly the same profit they would

180 GET THAT PICTURE

have made if the money were spent for display advertising,
but apparently it did no good.

In the meantime, we had, with the encouragement of
the Blankety Blank's traffic department gone ahead and
arranged to have their crack train, making its annual in-
augural run to Florida, the recipient of a cracker jack news
picture event.

The annual Air Meet was underway in Miami, and
we thought it a fine idea to have the Army send one of its
smoke screen laying planes fly up the line to meet the
train bound south for Miami, and salute it with a smoke
screen, while four other Army planes fly in tandem forma-
tion right behind the locomotive.

All arrangements had been made two weeks ahead of
time with New York to Miami phone bills running close to
$60. Yet the rail officials couldn't make up their minds
whether they wanted to go into this or not. In fact, the
cost to them was in pennies compared to the amount they
spent for their display advertising.

With ten hours to go before the flight was scheduled
they advised us to call it off ! It was sickening, and it
made me so mad that I grabbed the phone, called their
competitor, the Blankety X line, and arranged the stunt
with them. But it could not be done for a week as their
crack train did not start until a week from this date. In
the meantime, the Miami air meet ended, and the army
planes went back to Texas. A truly sensational news
picture was lost.

What could we do? One other thing. We could
arrange for four civilian flyers handling exactly the same
type of ships. More phone calls to Miami, more head-
aches when we learned there were not four planes alike
available. It was necessary to have them all white for
photographic purposes. We finally found three of a
certain type in Miami. They were small single-seated,

GET THAT PICTURE l8l

two or three cylinder powered gliders, not very fast and
not able to maneuver quickly.

Our job was still in the embryonic stage. Working
with the factory in the North we learned that two more
were available in Florida, one in Jacksonville and one in
St. Petersburg. We got them all to Miami.

The day came. Up they went flying north to Palm
Beach to meet the Special of the Blankety X line. Our
camera plane, a powerful Stinson, followed them down
the line as they attempted to get into tandem formation
over the engine. Only two could keep in line, and the
stunt flopped that day because the other three just didn't
get in their places. I later learned that high winds made
it impossible. Well, five times over a period of two weeks
we kept at this stunt and finally got it. We didn't get
what we wanted, but we got the next best thing.

All arrangements, all the details, were of the long
distance variety, and thanks to Karl Voelter of the Miami
All American Airport, our close friend, who worked with
us on a hundred similar stunts during our regime as pub-
licity directors for the City of Miami, we got the best
pictures possible.

Needless to say, the striking picture appeared from
coast to coast with the Sunday rotogravure sections giving
it a prominent position much to the amazement and
chagrin of the Blankety Blank Railroad.

Chapter XIII.
THE MINIATURE CAMERA ON THE NEWS JOB

When the first "candid camera" pictures of the dele-
gates' conferences at the League of Nations meeting at
Geneva first arrived in this country, the editor of a large
picture syndicate who first saw the intimate, unposed shots
of the European bigwigs, the first of their kind, pointedly
remarked: "These will revolutionize the news picture
field." The small prints were arresting, exciting. Nothing
like them had ever been made before. Here was Ramsay
MacDonald with hand cupped to ear, another of Premier
Laval of France in a moment of animated conversation with
another foreign delegate, all snapped within the sacrosanct
portals of the League to which a news cameraman had never
been admitted.

The photographer was Dr. Erich Salomon, a portly,
bespectacled German, who up to the age of 42 had not even
been an amateur photographer. Working as publicity di-
rector for the famous Ullstein publishing house in Berlin
in 1928, he had heard of a wonderful small camera that
could be held in the palm of a hand and could make pictures
without the aid of a flashlight. He decided then and there
to buy one, and learned to operate it very efficiently. It was
the Leica camera. Salomon, who enjoyed a wide acquaint-
ance among Europe's statesmen, decided that he would take
pictures of them in their most natural moments, conversing,
laughing, seriously concentrating, yawning, revealing the
human side of the great men to the public. He called him-
self a photo-journalist.

The word "candid camera" was coined by the London
Graphic which had published the first of Salomon's unusual

GET THAT PICTURE 183

pictures in 1930. One of the pictures was startlingly frank
in its subject and appeal, and created a sensation in the
photographic world. The picture had been taken at two
o'clock in the morning in a conference room of The Hague.
Louis Loucheur, French Minister of Labor, was holding his
hands to his weary eyes; French Premier Andre Tardieu
was slumped back on a couch, with eyes almost closed, ap-
parently exhausted. Old Henri Cheron, French Finance
Minister, seated in a high-backed chair, was dozing off.
Between Cheron and Tardieu sat Germany's Foreign Min-
ister Dr. Julius Curtius, slowly succumbing to the smooth
fingers of Morpheus. The light from a huge lamp in back
of the couch was softly reflected on the delegates' stiff shirt-
fronts and the high foreheads of Cheron and Loucheur.
The meeting of men to decide the existences of millions of
subjects! Unaware to these leaders, Dr. Salomon had
stolen off to one side to focus his tiny camera — and they
never knew that their picture had been taken ! On looking
at the picture, the reader could almost feel that he had
been present at this momentous meeting.

The "candid camera" had triumphed, and Dr. Salomon's
intimate studies were in immediate demand.

Years before Dr. Salomon's imposing entrance into the
field, Dr. Paul Wolff had made hundreds of interesting
studies with the Leica, and his work was arousing great
interest in the field of art photography in Germany.

The tiny camera that could use movie film so successfully
was the invention of Oskar Barnack employed by the Leitz
Company at Wetzlar, Germany. He made one for himself
in 1914 and one for Dr. Ernst Leitz, Sr., president of the
company, and the first picture ever taken by a Leica showed
a Berlin kiosk covered with a Government poster announc-
ing the official proclamation of the mobilization of the Ger-
man Army. Barnack did not turn seriously to the improve-
ment of his camera until after the war. He then added a

I 84 GET THAT PICTURE

new lens, the Elmar, designed by Professor Max Berek, also
employed by the Leitz Company. By 1926, the Leica had
made its appearance in the show-window of nearly every
photographic dealer in Germany. Starting with Model A,
the Leitz Company steadily added improvements, until to-
day its Model G practically leaves the camera fan nothing
further to be desired to take any kind of picture under any
kind of condition.

Soon after Leica's appearance on the market, other
miniature cameras, or minicams as they are popularly known,
were turned out by rival manufacturers, and in 1931, the
Contax, the Leica's chief competitor, was offered to the pub-
lic by the Zeiss-Ikon Company, the world's largest camera
manufacturers. Today there are as many as 40 different
makes of miniature cameras defined as those which use film
two and a quarter by three and a quarter inches or smaller.
There are as many as 100,000 miniature cameras in use in
this country alone. The "minibug," the tyro or the profes-
sional cameraman using the miniature camera is to be seen
everywhere today, training the compact marvel of precision
on every conceivable subject. The bacteriologists, botanists,
dentists, and physicians are finding it an invaluable aid in
their professions; the librarian is using it to photograph old
manuscripts; the commercial artist is finding it a boon to
his work; nearly every large newspaper and picture syndi-
cate in the country has added one or more to its photo-
graphic equipment in their pursuit of the news picture.

The most astonishing feature of the miniature camera is
its ability to capture all the details of the subject on its tiny
one inch by one and one-half inch film, taken under any
kind of light, and have the details faithfully enlarged on a
print eleven by fourteen inches, enough to satisfy the most
discriminating camera fan or editor. Enlargements have
even been made up to eight feet square and larger for com-
mercial purposes. There have always been small hand cam-

THEY CAN'T PICK UP THEIR NAPKINS

Lunch hour found these steel workers perched on a girder 68 stories above

the street, without the slightest concern either for the photographer making

a shot from another steel beam. The men were at work at the time on the

completion of the Rockefeller Center in Manhattan.

FUTURE LEADERS IN SCIENCE

A perfect line-up of Fordham University members of a class in microscopic

anatomy under the direction of Dr. James A. Mullen, Associate Professor of

Biology, preparing for final tests in the subject.

A FLAMING GIANT OF THE AIR

Flames consume the last fabric of the huge German dirigible Hindenburg-
and the former proud monarch of hte air is shown but a twisted mass of
steel ribs — taken in about a minute after the first flames shot out of her
tail while maneuvering for a landing- at Lakehurst, N. J., May 6, 1937. The
body of one of the passengers who had leaped lies in the foreground.
Thirty- -five passengers and members of the crew were burned to death.
Photographers waiting for a routine landing recorded the greatest picture

story of all time.

AND THE FLYER ESCAPED UNHURT

It was a miraculous escape for Gordon Israel when he attempted to land his
plane while going 80 miles an hour after winning the 50-mile free-for-all race
at the Omaha Air Races, August 12, 1934. The plane bounced, landed on its
nose, and then settled to the ground. Israel was unhurt and walked from
the smashed plane unaided.

GET THAT PICTURE 185

eras on the market, but the coarse film grain, when enlarged,
was the bane of the photographer's existence. Even as far
back as 1880 there was a camera called the Stirn which
could be strapped around the body, with its lens poked
through a button-hole, and there were others that had the
size and appearance of watches, and still others called detec-
tive cameras in odd sizes and shapes. But with the present
minicams, the fine precision instruments they are, have all
the advantages of its compactness plus the favorable results
of the large hand cameras. And with the aid of fine grain
developers, the results have fulfilled the age-long dream of
the cameraman.

Fast, anastigmatic lenses are a feature of the miniature
camera, and speeds up to i/i25Oth of a second can be ob-
tained to snap the fastest action of a racing car or speeding
plane. An exchangeable lens enables the photographer to
shoot anything from closeups of bugs and flowers to the
views of the distant skyscraper or mountain top. He has
the choice of using a standard, a wide angle or telescopic
lens. The built-in range finders, which operate with any of
the many interchangeable lenses enables the photographer
to focus his picture with accuracy by a simple turning of the
lens barrel, and were first installed by both the Leica and
Contax manufacturers in 1931.

To the minifan the entire business of owning and using
the miniature camera has been so absorbing and fascinating
that he eats, sleeps, and talks focal lengths, lens speeds,
range finders, angle view finders, and the rest of the acces-
sories as sun shades, self-timing devices, filters, which con-
tinue on into the darkroom vernacular of the fine grain
developers, fixing and hardening solutions, the printing
papers with their grades of contrast. One fan will compare
his results with the next, and the perpetual question will be
bandied back and forth: "What stop and speed did you
use for such and such a shot, and did you use Plenachrome

I 86 GET THAT PICTURE

film or Superpan?", and so on. Then, of course, there will
be the topic of the new device recently placed on the market :
"Did you get such and such a lens, and such and such a
filter?" There are 336 gadgets alone which the Leitz firm
sells for their miniature camera, but, of course, all are not
necessary for the immediate purchaser.

There is even a correction lens on the market for the
man who wears glasses, so he can properly focus, and a re-
mote release and shutter winder for the man who is inter-
ested in nature photography, so that by using two cables
attached at a distance to guides and rollers on the winding
knob of the camera, he is able to snare a series of the wild
animal in his lair or the mother bird with its young in the
nest.

For special purposes, as astronomical observatories,
lenses have been built up to about six feet in height for use
with the Contax.

To the newspaper and syndicate picture editor, the
question of the miniature camera had to be weighed more
solemnly than to the man on the street who saw in it an
instrument for relaxation and personal pleasure. Could the
crime, the fire, the accident, the feature story be covered
with the same speed and accuracy as the larger cameras?
To some of these questions which flitted in and out of the
editors' minds, as the country took to the miniature camera
by storm, the answers came back in the affirmative. The
miniature camera became part of the darkroom equipment.

Since speed is essential, the developing times for the
cut film and glass plates used in the Graphic and Graflex,
and the film used in the miniature cameras, were compared.
The plate holder film is still the fastest to develop and more
easily to handle. For instance, the standard developing
time for a negative used in the larger cameras takes six min-
utes; the fast Super X film in the Leica and Contax takes
twenty minutes. The newspaper cameraman thereby still

GET THAT PICTURE I 87

clings to his Graphic and Graflex; it truly is a marvel for
speed both on the job and in the darkroom. But the minia-
ture camera is also an invaluable aid, especially in the cover-
age of semi-news and feature stories where the five or six
picture series will give a vivid running account of a story,
and also enables the cameraman to enter places where a
camera case is immediately barred. Its feature of incon-
spicuousness is one that gives it great value in a newspaper
office.

The picture magazines, like Life and Look, and others
that feature a summary of the news in word and picture
like Time and News Week, are making extensive use of the
miniature camera, and many unusual news pictures have
been taken by the men with the minicams employed by these
magazines.

Carl Mydams, one of the many photographers employ-
ed by Life Magazine, was assigned to cover the crash of a
Western Air Express liner in the mountains outside Los
Angeles. The Martin Johnsons were among the passengers
aboard the ill-fated ship.

"Deep mud and almost no road made climbing on foot
the only way to the crash," he narrates. "The first four
miles were in a heavy mountain downpour. The last two
in a sub-zero snowstorm. Then having reached the top, we
news cameramen had to wait for hours for a team of mules
and a tractor to draw a truck and a hay rick to the mountain
top to carry down the injured. Our only shelter was an old
wood shed used in the summer time by a fire lookout. When
it came time, many hours later, to make pictures of the
transfer of the injured from the lookout house and the
crashed plane itself, to the truck and hayrick, my speedgun
which had been soaked in the heavy downpour during the
climb up, had frozen and would not work. I made all my
pictures with a Contax on the light of the moviemen's one

I 88 GET THAT PICTURE

minute flares and was able to cover the complete transfer
of the injured."

Mydam's equipment consists of two Contax chassies
and six supplementary lenses. He usually works with a two
inch lens in one camera and one of the five lenses which the
situation calls for, in the second camera. His third camera
is a 3% x 4*4 Speed Graphic with a Carl Zeiss 3.5 lens, a
Kalert rangefinder and a Mendelsohn speed gun. Mydams
believes that this equipment combination will cover any
situation that might arise.

One of the most unusual series of news photographs was
taken by the unobtrusive minicam. When Thomas Dowell
McAvoy was assigned to cover President Roosevelt's sign-
ing of the Brazilian Trade Agreement in the White House
early in 1935, McAvoy laid careful plans to get something
different than the other cameramen. His film for the Leica
he was using was specially sensitized in an ammonia bath.
While the other cameramen waited until the President fin-
ished his routine letter-signing to get their shots, McAvoy
quietly pressed the button of his miniature camera twenty
times. They were the first complete candid camera record
of a President in an official capacity, although a few years
earlier Dr. Salomon had for the first time snapped a news
picture of a President performing an official duty in a part
of the White House other than his office or library. At the
insistence of his friend Premier Laval of France, Herr
Salomon was admitted to the Lincoln Study in the White
House to make pictures of Laval's conference with Presi-
dent Hoover. While Laval, conversing through an interp-
reter, gesticulated in typical foreign manner, Salomon made
several interesting shots — and the candid camera's intrusion
into the sanctum sanctorum of the White House was the
first big stone cast into the pool of American news photog-
raphy to create ever widening ripples.

Another famed minicam-armed explorer of the news

GET THAT PICTURE 189

world, Peter Stackpole, whose pictures have filled many
pages in Time, Fortune and Life magazines, first created a
sensation with the candid camera shot he took of Herbert
Hoover fast asleep during Secretary of Labor Perkin's
speech at the University of California Charter Day exer-
cises several years ago. He made the picture while on a
special assignment for an Oakland Republican paper which
could find no space for such a shot of Republican Hoover.
A friend of his insisted that he send it, along with several
other shots, to Time magazine — and it was that shot that
started him upward on the road to fame. The magazine
immediately hired him as a member of its staff.

The most exciting assignment, Stackpole says he has
had, was his first with Fortune when he was assigned to
Hearst's summer estate at Wintoon in Oregon. The pic-
tures were to accompany an article on the Hearst Empire.
Stackpole had been given a list of about fifty subjects to be
sure to get but he had only two days to do the job. He man-
aged to cover most of the fifty and still take additional ma-
terial such as Hearst's guests, the publisher's Tyrolian hats,
his foreign auto plates on his car and other details that
might have escaped a less enterprising cameraman. When
the issue came out, more of the circumstantial shots Stack-
pole had taken about the place were used than the many
given him on the list.

Stackpole, whose series of candid camera shots such
as the bridge photos in Vanity Fair, the Hearst story in
Fortune and the Cardinals baseball training camp in Flor-
ida, Noel Coward backstage, life of the Admiral of the
U. S. Fleet and the Dartmouth Winter Carnival in Life
magazine, have won wide acclaim, uses a Model F and G
Leica with Summar F.2 lens, Elmar 50 mm. 3.5 lens, Elmar
90 mm. F.4 lens, 135 mm. Telephoto lens and Elmar Wide
Angle lens. He says that he uses also a Contax often be-
cause with it he has three speed lenses of three useful focal

190 GET THAT PICTURE

lengths, a Biotar 40 mm. because of its fine depth of focus
at large stops, the rapid Fi.5 Sonnar 50 mm. lens for ex-
tremely poor light and the 85 mm. F.2 telephoto lens which
he says he finds useful for performance photographs. For
assignments requiring stopped action indoors where the
light is too poor to use either the Leica or the Contax, he
uses a Welta roll film camera with synchronized speed gun.

Another sensational news picture, the electrocution of
Gerald Thompson, sex slayer, at the Joliet, 111. prison was
made with the aid of a miniature camera by William Van-
divert, now with Life magazine, and employed at the time
by the Chicago Herald and Examiner. He carried a Contax
with a Fi.5 lens past the guards slung in the crotch of his
pants. He took ten shots, eight of which turned out well,
and one-third of another negative was blown up to a 16 x 20
print to make a complete back page. The results were all
the more remarkable because he had to guess focus at fifteen
feet, but he got them "right on the button."

Vandivert also had a narrow escape from death or seri-
ous injury recently when he accompanied four union organ-
izers into a laundry intending to call a sitdown strike. The
owner of the laundry took a shot at the group. When the
police arrived in response to a riot call the owner put the
finger on Vandivert as the spokesman for the organizers,
and he spent an uncomfortable afternoon in the prosecutor's
office explaining that he had just gone along for the fun and
a series of pictures.

Another Life magazine cameraman, Bernard Hoffman,
had an amusing experience one day when he was getting
ready to make a series of pictures in a "hot dog" factory.
Just as he was about ready to shoot his pictures he discov-
ered that the damp, salt-laden air had coated the lens on his
camera. He made some repairs, and then, because of a
soggy connection, blew out all the light fuses in the place.
Jhe "hot dogs" had to lie low for a while.

GET THAT PICTURE 191

Besides his miniature cameras, the Leica and the Welta
for flashlight shots, he also uses a 5 x 7 Korona for person-
ality studies, still life and wide angle shots.

Picture editors on the dailies and syndicates are con-
tinually assigning cameramen with minicams to make the
five or more picture series. The circus is in town : the
cameraman will make a layout of the performers, the
clowns, the animals, and most interesting of all, the children
spectators who, in the unposed moment, gaze with eyes wide
opened in amazement while the aerial acrobats go through
their stunts. Children are among the best subjects to cap-
ture with the minicams. Quietly, the cameramen will steal
unawares within shooting distance to get the most natural
pictures. With the larger cameras, children consciously
stiffen and assume the most awkward poses; they are very
much aware of the lens being trained on them. Some of
them have a fear of the flashlights, and the sudden burst of
light will frighten the smaller children into screams and
tears.

The miniature camera is also well adapted to the dinner,
night club and theatre. All the natural poses of the celebrity
eating, drinking, conversing, smiling, seriously engrossed in
a moment of deep thinking, render the series of pictures the
most life-like possible, and the aura the public places over
a well known figure is replaced by a much more sensible
depiction of him when they see his likeness in a real human
mood and moment. By jove, he's human — he can throw his
head back and really guffaw 1 The minicam has caught him
at that moment. There is no ego or pose when the minia-
ture camera catches him off his guard.

Barred doors have disappeared as if by magic before the
cameraman armed with the miniature. With the camera
comfortably fitting into his pocket or safely hidden beneath
his coat, the photographer has invaded courtrooms, select
dining rooms, debutante parties, board of director meetings,

192 GET THAT PICTURE

state ceremonials, diplomats' conferences, gambling halls,
clip joints, and gone off into a quiet corner and taken his
pictures without a person aware of his presence. The
mighty gun with the silencer — but more effective! The
angle view finder — that deceptive looking gadget — has con-
quered many an unwilling subject!

What miniature camera to use? The question is asked
a hundred times daily, across the shopkeeper's counter, the
student's desk, the artist's easel, the newspaper cameraman's
darkroom. Some prefer the Leica, others will swear by
the Contax, others the Robot, the man with the thin wallet
the $2.50 Univex or the $12.50 American-made Argus, the
rich tyro the Zeiss' $650 Contaflex. Each one has its par-
ticular attraction for the minifan. It is just a matter of
taste and individual preference — and the pocketbook — for
one will have a certain feature lacking in the other. Each
day brings forth a new camera, a new improvement, so it is
impossible to judge which is the best. With proper hand-
ling, a picture of perfect tone and structural balance can be
obtained from one as well as the next.

The miniature camera has accomplished one big thing.
As a bright, new weapon in the ceaseless quest for the photo-
graphic gem, it has stirred the imaginations of thousands to
the possibilities of new triumphs in the photographic field.
To the news cameraman, ever tireless in his recording of the
human drama, it is opening new vistas of accomplishment.
Spurred by faith in its powers of achievement, he will record
new picture documents to give to the world as imperishable
data.

Chapter XIV.

THE GREATEST PICTURE STORIES
HINDENBURG CRASH — PANAY BOMBING

The Chinese have a proverb: "One good picture is
worth ten thousand words." This is often exaggerated,
but on two stories, it was an understatement. The pic-
tures taken of the dirigible Hindenburg disaster on May
6> J937 and the bombing of the United States gunboat
Panay in the Yangtze River on December 12, 1937 pre-
sented the full horror of the catastrophes as no amount
of words could have ever expressed — they were the most
dramatic and spectacular picture stones of all time.

Twenty-odd cameramen, movies and still, were on the
ground at Lakehurst, N. J., awaiting the routine landing
of the giant Hindenburg with 97 persons aboard. At
7 :2O p.m. the first of her landing lines was flung to a
ground crew of Navy men and civilians. The second
followed, and then suddenly a burst of flame shot out from
the port side of her stern. Cries of horror rent the air
as a terrific explosion shook the giant bag, and in an
incredibly few seconds the flaming ship, racked by suc-
cessive explosions, sank earthward, a dragon-tongue of
fire spitting from its nose turned skyward. In less time
than it takes to tell, the burning mass crashed to the earth
as more explosions followed, and mountains of flame and
smoke blotted out the sky.

Just before she struck the ground, passengers and
crew leaped from the fiery hell, some to be crushed be-
neath the flaming hulk, others to be dragged to safety by
the landing crew who at first ran for safety and then
turned back risking death and injury to save many lives.

194 GET THAT PICTURE

Ambulances clanged to the scene, doctors and nurses
rushed to give first aid, and fire fighters turned great
streams of water and chemicals into the cauldron of smoke
and fire.

Those 49 seconds that turned a glistening monarch
of the air into a fiery mass of twisted aluminum ribs and
snuffed the lives of 35 persons were caught by the veteran
cameramen as they stood there, horrified and gaping, but
with steady hands completed the picture record of a dis-
aster which time will never dim.

It is the first time in history that the news photogra-
pher was able to record on his negatives the start of a
major catastrophe.

Murray Becker, Associated Press photographer, was
focusing his camera on the Hindenberg as she maneuvered
into landing, aiming for a nice twilight shot, when the
first flames spurted across its tail. In that split-second,
before the ship began to dive, he snapped the first picture
of the flaming dirigible while on an even keel. The
others raised their eyes to the view finders, but the ship
was already heading earthward.

The cameramen steeled themselves to rigid control of
hands and eyes as they clicked picture after picture, snap-
ping out holders, one after the other, and then raced for-
ward toward the settling inferno to get the closeup shots
of the victims plummeting to the ground and others with
clothing burnt from their bodies and flesh hanging in strips
being assisted from the scene by Navy men, Marines and
civilians. Disregarding the explosions that continued to
tear the flaming mass apart and the terrible heat which
beat their bodies with the fierceness of a thousand open-
door furnaces, the photographers kept on shooting every
available plate to cover the story completely.

Every newspaper and syndicate photographer on the
job turned in remarkable pictures of the disaster. The
New York Daily News had two men, Charles Hoff and

GET THAT PICTURE 195

Robert Seelig, Sam Shere represented International News
Photos, Samuel Meyers was the New York Times Wide
World cameraman, William Springfield was Acme News'
staffman on the job, Murray Becker worked for Associated
Press, and four Philadelphia newspapers had staff camera-
men there, Jack Snyder representing the Record, Joseph
Nelson the Inquirer, Gus Pasquarella the Ledger and
Harry McGonigal the Bulletin.

Despite the fact that he was struck down by one of
the landing cables as he was about to take a shot of the
ship at the first explosion, Meyers regained his feet in an
instant, and though shaken up, started shooting his pic-
tures which were as complete as any of the others.

Prior to their landing at Lakehurst in two News'
planes long in advance of the arrival of the Hindenberg,
Hoff and Seelig had taken many pictures of the ship from
the air. A plane was still on the field when the explosion
occurred. Their first plates were handed to the pilot who
flew them back to North Beach, Long Island, and then
rushed by car to the News' office. As a result, the News
was the first on the streets in New York with the pictures
of the disaster.

While the photographers continued shooting their pic-
tures, Miss Patricia O'Malley, press representative of the
American Air Lines, raced from cameraman to camera-
man, collecting their holders, and then made for a plane
which the Lines had waiting on the field to bring the
Hindenburg's passengers to Newark. On its arrival at
Newark Airport, waiting motorcycle drivers, dispatched
from the syndicates' offices, grabbed the plates and
streaked back to New York.

While these were being developed and printed, relief
photographers and portable equipment for the wire trans-
mission of pictures direct from the scene were already en-
route by plane to Lakehurst, and a short while thereafter
planes were shuttling back and forth to bring fresh mate-

196 GET THAT PICTURE

rials and men, and return new stacks of undeveloped nega-
tives.

In the New York offices, editors, printers and boys
worked right through the night and morning, without a
single letup, to rush the remarkable pictures by plane and
train to newspaper members. Editors everywhere filled
page after page with the pictures, replating in many in-
stances. An outstanding example of speed in picture repro-
duction was the ability of the New York Times to place
pictures of the disaster in its first edition, a little more
than an hour and a half after the first flames were sighted
on the Hindenburg's tail.

Within ten minutes after the arrival of the undeveloped
plates in the offices, syndicates were placing the prints on
the telephone wires to be whirled to every part of the
country, and West Coast readers of the morning papers
were able to see the complete picture story in front of
them.

Motorcycle messengers rushed prints to the Radio
Corporation of America in downtown New York to be
radioed to London and Buenos Aires, and the following
morning radioed pictures front paged the English and
Argentine editions.

The astounding shots that revealed the majestic
queen of the air crumpling into fire streaked ruins were
within a few hours hurtling from city to city, from con-
tinent to continent, with every device known to the news
photographic world to speed them on their way.

Two amateur photographers also broke into print
with their miniature camera records of the Hindenburg's
last landing. Arthur Cofod, Jr., armed with a Leica, had
a full-page layout in Life magazine, showing the disaster
from start to finish. His hands shook violently as he took
his first shot, but steadied himself and took the others
successfully as he held his ground. Foo Chu, a Chinese
amateur, who had casually gone to Lakehurst to try for

GET THAT PICTURE 197

interesting angles of the Hindenburg with his miniature
camera, secured an excellent series which were purchased
by the New York Daily News and used in continuity form
in double-truck display.

From those men who with their trusty Graphics had
gone down to Lakehurst to cover another routine assign-
ment, and the amateur photographers who with their ever-
handy miniatures had chanced upon the story, have come
the "pictures of the century." To them belong full and
everlasting credit. It was a story where only cameramen
with steel nerves, steady hands and eyes, and lightning
action could get the epic pictures they secured, the most
dramatic and remarkable ever made till that time in the
history of news photography.

Then seven months later came the bombing of the
Panay and the news photographer added fresh laurels to
his crowning list of achievements. The Panay pictures
were secured under far more trying conditions, a greater
risk of death and injury, than those which the cameramen
got at Lakehurst. When we read the story of that hor-
rible Sunday adventure on the Yangtze, it is a miracle that
any pictures were secured at all.

It is another bright tribute to the bravery of the news
cameraman.

From the moment the power-diving Japanese planes
roared over the ship riding at anchor 28 miles upstream
from Nanking, unleashing their first bomb, a direct hit
putting the fore gun of the ship out of commission, Nor-
man Soong, New York Times Wide World photographer,
recorded with his Leica strung from his neck, a series of
seventy pictures, showing every phase of the Panay's proud
but helpless fight against overwhelming odds.

Soong was on the top deck of the ship that fatal after-
noon of December 12, discussing with others the incident
of the morning, the boarding of a Japanese officer at
Nanking, when the first warning whistle was sounded.

198 GET THAT PICTURE

Oncoming Japanese planes, a formation of three, had been
sighted. "Look, there they are! See the red balls on
them!", someone had shouted. Soong scented trouble.
He made a dash for his room where he had left his
camera. A second later came the deafening explosion of
a bomb. It was a direct hit. The ship shook from stem
to stern. Wood splinters, glass and water were thrown
over him as he sought a vantage point from which to shoot
his pictures.

Fragments of the shell had left their marks. There
were wounded men all over the ship. Lieutenant Com-
mander J. J. Hughes was thrown against the bridge wheel,
breaking his right leg near the hip. J. Hall Paxton, Sec-
ond Secretary of the U. S. Embassy, was struck by a shell
fragment on the shoulder. The gunners ran for the machine
guns and started firing. Smoke and the dust of flying
debris left the men choking for breath. Again came the
pursuit bombers with their deliberate dives, and more
deafening concussions.

Through the thick of it Soong kept on clicking his
camera. Two newsreel photographers, Norman W. Alley
and Eric Mayell were right there with him filming the
terrible moments for posterity. Alley cranked his camera
on the machine gun deck close to the machine gunners
futilely training their small weapons on the zooming ships.
Alley was hit in the leg by a shell fragment and a finger
on his left hand was scratched by a bullet, but he wasn't
the least bit fazed and continued to crank his camera.

On the starboard deck was Mayell who was working
from an exposed spot. The planes kept returning in for-
mation. Every time the bombs struck the photographers
would duck and then return to their cameras to snap the
effects of the explosions. No cameramen, even in the World
War, had ever shot pictures under more harrowing condi-
tions. It is remarkable that their pictures came out as well as
they did. Soong finished a roll of film, then made a dash for

GET THAT PICTURE 199

the engine room hatchway. By that time the Panay was
shipping water rapidly.

At 2:05 p.m., exactly 35 minutes after the first shell
struck, Lieutenant A. F. Anders who was unable to speak
because of his throat gashed by a bomb fragment, scribbled
on a bloody pad orders to abandon ship. • An outboard
sampan was lowered over the port side and the wounded
taken off. The planes dived low to machine gun the boat.
A bullet pierced the side and killed Seaman Charles Lee
Ensminger. Then came their turns for the uninjured to
leave the ship. Soong was only able to save his Leica
and a few rolls of film. The rest of his equipment went down
with the boat.

The wounded were tenderly placed among the twelve-
foot reeds on the bank of the river, on the few dry spots
that could be found in the swamps. The uninjured did
everything to alleviate the sufferings of the dying and the
wounded. While they waited for help to arrive from the
town of Hohsien, where Mr. Paxton and others had gone
to break the news and summon aid, Soong took some of
his most outstanding shots. Dusk was already approach-
ing, and Soong had to work quickly before the light
disappeared.

Three of his most dramatic pictures made there were
the ones showing Sandro Sandri, Italian journalist, who
was struck by a bullet, being comforted in his dying
moments by Luigi Barzini, a fellow Italian newspaperman,
who was also aboard the Panay; Chief Quartermaster
John Lang, whose jaw was split open by a bomb fragment,
sitting on an improvised couch and trying to stem the flow
of blood, and the brave Lieutenant Anders with bandaged
throat and arm lying prone on a makeshift bed.

At nine o'clock that night a relief party arrived from
Hohsien, and the five-mile trek began over a dangerous river
bank which at times threatened to give way under his feet
Alley had hidden his camera in the swamps lest Japanese

200 GET THAT PICTURE

soldiers surprise them and destroy it. Doors and bamboo
couches were used to carry the thirteen wounded men. Soong,
an American-born Chinese, and Paxton with their knowledge
of the language were helpful throughout the trip, and pre-
vented the survivors from being fired upon by Chinese sen-
tries.

The news of the tragedy was already reverberating
throughout the world. Day after day, the story was front-
page news. But the public was more anxious to see the
pictures than they were to read the accounts.

Picture syndicates and newsreel companies made fever-
ish preparations for the safe despatch and arrival of the
reels and films.

American and British gunboats brought the survivors to
Shanghai. There Soong developed his films and made prints.
Three American destroyers carried the films, reels and
prints to Manila arriving there a day before the China
Clipper, giant trans-Pacific plane, was scheduled to leave
for the United States. Alley accompanied his 4500 feet of
precious film. While in Manila, Alley had his leg wound
treated before continuing on his way.

The morning of December 28 came. The Clipper
glided into the bay off Alameda, California. Motorcycles
rushed the packages into the syndicate offices in San Fran-
cisco, a short distance away. The pictures were soon hum-
ming over the telephone wires to newspapers all over the
country. Millions of readers saw for the first time the
horrible tragedy of the Panay bombing.

The cameramen who recorded the Panay bombing
have made news photography, a symbol of greatness, a
profession to be very proud of, indeed.

The Hindenburg crash, the Panay bombing — no other
stories have ever tested the cameraman's courage more.
Amid two outstanding trials of peace and war, the news-
paper photographer has proven that he will never flinch in
the line of duty. He does not have to be told: "Get that
picture!" He gets it!

every large picture syndicate in
an editorial capacity — the for-
mer Pacific and Atlantic Photos,
syndicate of the New York News
and Chicago Tribune, Acme
Newspictures, Associated Press
Photos and the New York Times
Wide World Photos where he is
at present.

He not only deals with the
newspaper photographer — that
daring, resourceful fellow who
seeks no glory but only strives
to "get that picture" — and re-
lates thrilling adventures that lie
behind so many of the master-
pieces of the news camera, but
he also tells of the history and
development of news photogra-
phy, the rise of picture papers
here and abroad, the transporta-
tion of pictures by train, plane,
dog sled, pigeon and the
present-day marvel of scientific
research — wired transmission.
He also tells of the war camera-
man, the aerial photographer,
the woman gatherer of news
pictures. Every phase is com-
pletely covered.

The author presents a word
picture of an interesting and
engrossing profession that is
sharply focused and well com-
posed.

WORLD

PICTURES

Newspaper publishers and editors are realizing more
and more the value of news pictures as a circulation
builder and advertisement attraction. The growth of pic-
torial news in this country in the past decade has been
nothing less than sensational. There is scarcely a daily
or weekly anywhere in the country which is not using
photographs in one form or the other. Many of the larger
newspapers subscribe to syndicates for news pictures in
print form, still more take the matrix service, while others
are turning to the use of inexpensive one-man engraving
plants for the publication of pictures of local interest. THIS
IS THE PHOTOGRAPHIC AGE IN THE NEWSPAPER
WORLD.

Behind this remarkable growth in pictorial news lies a
great story — one that is now being told for the first time
in this book "Get That Picture! - - The Story of the News
Cameraman/' written by A. J. Ezickson of the New York
Times Wide World Photos.

He not only deals with the newspaper photographer -
how he gets his daily picture, the routine shot or the
"scoop" but relates in thrilling manner of the adventures
that lie behind so many of the masterpieces of the news
camera, he ..also tells of the history and development of
news photography, the rise of picture newspapers here
and abroad, how pictures are transported from faraway
places, brought thousands of miles by plane, train, dog
sled, pigeon and the present-day method of wired trans-
mission - - a marvel of scientific enterprise and research.

The author searchingly goes into all the bypaths of
the news picture field, presenting in vivid detail all the
experiences of his sixteen-year connection with picture
syndicates.

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Get that picture! The story of the news cameraman"

See other formats